Anniversary Crisis
by Jack Colquitt
Summary: As their first anniversary draws near, all Stan can think of is his beloved Kyle. Unfortunately, Kyle doesn't seem to reciprocate his feelings. Style, mentioned Bunny. Stan's POV. Rating now changed to M. Complete!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or any character present in this story. They belong to their rightful owners, and I do not intend to use them for any kind of profit.**

**Rating: T for minor languages; will be adjusted accordingly when the next chapter's up.**

XxXxX

_God damnit. I always thought time flied._

I thought while gazing disinterestedly into a small screen attached in the back of the front seat in my flight from London to New York. The flight was going to last more than seven hours, and my desperate attempt to fall asleep turned out to be a complete failure. Don't get me wrong; I'm usually a sound sleeper who has no trouble drifting off whenever and wherever I was. Give me a pillow and a blanket, and I can hit the sack on the road like one of these homeless people. And I was actually in a rather sleep-deprived state, because I had procrastinated with packing my belongings and ended up spending virtually the whole night yesterday to finish the job. Why do I have difficulty falling asleep, then? It was Kyle, of course.

I spent the last three weeks in London on a business trip that my company arranged with a corporate partner in England. That means I didn't get to see Kyle in whole three weeks! That may not seem like a long period of time, but anybody who has fallen in love with someone before would surely understand how desperate a man can grow in the absence of his lover. And much more importantly, tomorrow, July 27, would be our first wedding anniversary!

For those who are unaware, yes, we're married. We followed Kenny and Butters to New York upon graduating from the same college in California last year. The biggest reason was that neither Colorado nor California allowed gay marriage like New York did. We had a modest ceremony attended by only our immediate families and closest friends as soon as we moved in. I was now working for a quite decent insurance company in New York, and Kyle, being an incredible nerd that he was, was attending the graduate program at SUNY. Sadly, he was working as a research assistant for a company in Texas this summer, and therefore would be leaving New York to do a research the first thing on July 29. So counting today, I had three measly days, including our anniversary, to have Kyle all to myself before being left alone yet again. Great.

Whenever I closed my eyes, the back of my eyelid somehow projected the image of Kyle, making it impossible for me to relax and let myself roll into a peaceful state of mind. I wanted to see him. I _needed_ to see him now. I couldn't possibly wait another second to place my lips on his. To make matters still worse, every thought about Kyle elevated the level of my impatience to a whole new level and a mere second felt no shorter than an hour. Urgh…

_Okay, don't think of him, Stan. Just find distractions. You can do it._

And that's the reason why I decided to watch one of the movies that the airline offered. Appearing on the screen was a typical action movie where a typical superhero kicked the shit out of the typical badasses, in one of those typical silly plots. Could you, Ms. oblivious-girlfriend-of-the-hero, please stop acting like a moron and getting kidnapped every other minute? He didn't say "stay in the car" without a good fucking reason. And you, Mr. Villain, stop mumbling about your grand plan to take over the States, the world, and/or the galaxy for hours when you have your archenemy at a point-blank range. While you're elaborating on how you're going to make the society degenerate into complete chaos, your fellow superhero is improvising a last-minute plan to make you drop the pistol. Then you're going to start a whole series of fist fight that ends up getting you killed when one of your meticulous plans backfires. How predictable.

Obviously, I was not a big fan of action movies. To be exact, I wasn't into any kind of movie at all. I used to like that Terrence and Phillip movie when in grade school, but two hours of recurring fart jokes suddenly stopped being cool somewhere in my high school years—For your information, cool jokes between dudes in high school consist of the following components: tits, tits, and tits—. The only reason I kept going to cinemas was Kyle, a fanatic fan of all cheesy horror movies. Ever since we started going out as something more than Super Best Friends in tenth grade, Kyle insisted on going to the local cinema together whenever a new horror film opened. I don't want to admit it, but, umm, horror films are not exactly my thing. I mean, people tend to think that a guy like me, an all-round athlete and former football captain in South Park High, would just sneer at stories involving ghosts or zombies. Uh, to be perfectly honest, they scare the shit out of me. Surprised? Well, the fact that I have difficulty watching horror movies seemed to amuse Kyle.

"_Please, Stan, don't tell me you're scared. Are you?" Kyle grinned, his teasing voice emanating a profound sense of joy. "and I thought you were the one who called me girlish."_

"_I'm not scared!" I protested in a somewhat high-pitched whisper. "I just… just… find this whole concept of zombies uncomfortable. They're gross." That was the only excuse I could think of at that time, placing my right hand in front of my eyes so that I could only peek at the larger screen between my fingers. My eyes were ready to snap shut whenever the musical theme of the movie indicated that people were about to be ambushed by hoards of zombies intent on ripping their flesh off and munching on their bones. Even when I was not looking, I couldn't help but flinch at the sound that these terrible things make._

"_Of course, Stanley. That is very persuasive." Kyle snorted. "The fact of the matter is, I don't understand why people are afraid of those things. There is absolutely no reason to fear zombies. For one, they don't even exist in reality. These "zombies" in this movie are actually human actors wearing some creepy make-ups and they would simply brush off and go to have dinners together when the director calls it a day. All they do is play with human emotions which yearn for the catharsis that comes with the sense of grief, sadness, or in this case, horror. Everything makes sense once you think of it this way."_

"_Thank you, smartass. That helped a lot." I said sarcastically, still refusing to let down my hand blocking the gruesome image of the screen from entering my eyes. Kyle let out a deep sigh, shaking his head. "C'mere." He extended his right arm to gently hang it around my neck. I flushed a little, feeling a bit embarrassed because I always considered myself the strong one in our relationship. But I soon found myself leaning to Kyle's side, resting my head on his shoulder. With his hand gently stroking my hair, we stayed in that same position throughout the rest of the movie. As the credit rolled, Kyle he leaned towards me to stare directly into my eyes, with a grin plastered over his face. "I see our little Stanny boy needs to grow up."_

… Oh shit.

I was watching a cheap action movie to distract myself, and now what? I found myself indulging in the memories with Kyle again. I felt myself growing ten times more desperate to see him, and that made time flow ten times slower in that plane. Urghhhhh…

XxXxX

I hardly remembered how I arrived at the airport. The first thing I did after landing was calling Kyle, of course. Unfortunately, I forgot to charge my cell phone before departure, and the battery was already dead for good before the plane landed. So I decided to use one of these credit card phone booths in the airport lounge. Finding the booth, I slashed my card and dialed the number to our home.

After it rang for a few times, I finally heard what I was longing to hear for a thousand years.

"Hello, Broflovski speaking."

"Guess who." I couldn't help the wide grin appearing on my face as I heard his heavenly voice. "Oh Stan? You in New York already?" I could hear his voice brighten discernibly. "Yeah. Just landed in the airport. My cell is kinda dead, so I'm calling from a phone booth here."

"Well, it's not the first time you forgot to charge the battery." Kyle stated matter-of-factly.

"So, you got all your luggage back?" "Yeah."

"You sure they are yours? Have you checked the name tags?" "Of course, I did."

"And how about the pick-up by the airporter service?" "Kyle, you forced me to sign up for that three days ago."

"Ok, and have you…" "Kyle," I interjected. "Could you stop acting like my mom? I go to work, not school anymore." I let out a small sigh. "I got everything covered. You don't have to worry about anything."

"…Okay, sorry." Kyle answered. There was a brief moment of silence between us until he decided to break it. "So, when are you going to be home?" "Wait a minute," I scroll through the confirmation page that the airporter company had me print out. "The pick-up is in 30 minutes, and it's roughly a two-hour ride, so given the traffic's not so bad," I look at the large clock hung on the wall of the lounge. It indicated 4:53 PM. "that should get me home by seven thirty. Hopefully, that is."

"Great. See you then." "Oh, wait, Kyle." I wanted to ask him something.

"What, why?" "You remember about tomorrow, right?" I knew the question was kinda pointless, as we already discussed about our anniversary through Skype a few days ago.

"Oh, Stan… You're not serious. How could I ever forget?" I smiled. "Sorry, Kyle. Just wanted to make sure. I gotta go. See you."

"See you, Stan." I heard the dial tone beeping from Kyle's side and then hung up. My mind was filled with joy as the anticipation of seeing Kyle escalated. Two and a half hours. The only hoped that the traffic wouldn't be too bad.

XxXxX

"May I have your name, please?" the bus driver asked, helping me with loading the luggage to a bus. "It's Stan. Reservation code C14661. Thank you." I loaded myself into the bus and sat on one of the window seats, staring outside as the bus started strolling across the street to carry each passenger to their destination.

During the whole ride, all I could think was still Kyle. I contemplated on how to spend those three precious days with him before his departure to Austin. I wanted to make him the happiest person in the universe during those three days. Well, not only because we had only three days, but also because I had something to make up for Kyle. You see, the day before I flew to London, we had this small argument between us. It was nothing serious, really, but it indeed ended up leaving Kyle disappointed.

"_Jesus, Kyle. I thought we were through this thing." I said, pacing in front of the couch in the living room that he was sitting on. "You're supposed to be the smart one. You're fully aware that we can't afford a child. At least not right now. We are simply not prepared for an adoption."_

"_But why not, Stan?" Kyle seemed to be at the brink of bursting into tears. "I can assure you. I will do all the work. Feeding, bathing, playing, everything. I promise! It won't cause any problem to your work schedule…"_

"_Kyle," I let out a frustrated sigh, stopping my pace and glaring directly into his deep, emerald eyes. "You know that's not the problem here. I'm not the only one who's got works to do." I could see his eyes beginning to moisten, but I had to be strong. "What about your Ph. D.? What about your graduate research projects? What about your dissertations? You stay up the whole night after each exam grading hundreds of undergrad papers. You see, you are not in a better position to take care of a child than I am. You should be able to see that." Kyle dropped his head, wrapping the front of his face with his both hands, ankles resting on his knees._

"_I don't know, Stan." He began to sob. "Maybe, maybe you're right. But it's, it's just that I always d, dreamed of being a good parent, you know? Happily wa, watching my children g, grow up in my care." He stuttered, as all people do when they try to speak and cry at the same time. Watching him in such a state was not a pleasant sight to me either, especially if I'm the one who caused it. But my position on this issue was unwavering._

"_Kyle, look at me." I kneeled in from of the couch, leveling my eyes with his, still wrapped around by his hands. I gently placed my hands on his, prying them open to meet his bloodshot, moistened eyes still avoiding mine. I sighed again. "See, Kyle, I want to raise our own children just as much as you do." "You do?" he finally returned my gaze with a slight sign of hope. "Yes. Believe me. I do. It's just that we don't need to hurry. I promise; as soon as you get your Ph. D., I'd be more than happy to expand our family."_

_Kyle again dropped his gaze. "But it's going to take at least another several years to complete my graduate program." He slowly raised his hands and wrapped them around my neck. "I'm not sure if I can wait that much, Stan."_

"_I know. I know" I placed my hands on each side of his cheek, and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. "But you should. I promise I'll always be with you so that you're never lonely."_

"_Never make any promise that you cannot keep, Stan." Kyle still seemed distressed. "Especially if you're going to leave for London for three weeks tomorrow."_

I felt sorry that the last conservation we had before I flied to London had to be like that. Throughout my stay in England, I couldn't erase that saddened look of him from my mind for a mere second.

_I'm going to make those three days the happiest moments in your life._

During the two hour ride, I devised this plan of mine. First thing after I'm home, I'd treat him at Bennigan's in the next county. In the morning of our anniversary, maybe we can go to the local waterpark that enforces a strict "no-peeing-in-the-pool" rule, unlike PiPi's in Colorado. I heard that a Broadway musical, the Book of Mormon, was in our town until the last day of July, so we could go see that in the evening. On the last day, well, we should go to watch this new installment of Paranormal Activity—I don't remember if it was 6 or 7—which opened recently. Kyle seemed to have developed a maddening enthusiasm for that franchise, and I was ready to sit through it as long as Kyle would enjoy the experience. And most importantly, of course, I will make each night utterly unforgettable for Kyle. Yes. Definitely, definitely, unforgettable. I couldn't help but to smirk at the thought of it.

_I'm gonna make you scream my name over and over, Kyle._

XxXxX

"Here's one fifty. Keep the change." "Thank you, sir. Have a good night."

After torturous hours of riding, I was finally there. The ride was slightly delayed because of the horrible traffic, and the driver told me that it was 5 minutes past eight. Though somewhat late than expected, I was finally in front of my home sweet home, 1708 Anderson Boulevard, a standard two-story house in the suburban area. The setting sun generated a beautiful, dramatic effect as I approached the front door, carrying two large travel bags. Through the window, I could see the light in the living room pouring outside.

_What would he do when he sees me?_

I briefly consider opening the door myself as I lowered down the bags and grabbed the key chain in my pocket. At the second thought, though, that would rob all the romanticism from out long-awaited reunion. With my mind full with anticipation, I took one heavy breath and pressed the doorbell.

Ding, Dong.

Then I heard the familiar voice from my beloved one. "Oh, who's there? Stan, is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me." I soon heard the door clicking open, and was greeted by a pair or bright emerald eyes. I couldn't even begin to describe how much I was longing to see those again. "Stan! I'm glad you're back!" With a big smile, he spread his arms widely in a welcoming gesture.

"Long time no see, Kyle." I stepped inside the house, and immediately gave him a passionate hug, squeezing his waist with my arms and resting my head on his right shoulder. I was sure that I was grinning like an idiot, but I couldn't care less. I've waited this moment for a long time. A long fucking time. I wanted it to last.

"Stan," It was Kyle that broke the silent moment of happy reunion. "I can't… breathe..."

"Oh, sorry, my dear." I quickly let go of him, watched him catch his breath, and then gave him a quick kiss on his forehead. "Did you miss me?"

"You bet I did." Kyle grinned, with his hypnotizing eyes staring directly in my eyes, making me a little bit dizzy. "You have no idea how lonely I was without you. Those three weeks felt like three millennia."

"Sorry I left you alone for so long." I said, not breaking the connected gaze. "But you're going to leave for Austin in three days. That makes us even."

"Yeah, even we are." He stared down, seeming a bit saddened as he realized that we're not going to be together like this for long. But no, he shouldn't be like this. I wanted to make him happy when he's with me. Without much thinking, I passionately pressed my lips against his. Kyle flinched a little at my sudden action for a split second, but soon gave himself in and returned my kiss. I coaxed his lips open, and let our hungry tongues mingle with each other. God, I wanted this to last forever. With our tongues fighting for dominance in our connected mouths, the satisfaction of having Kyle all to myself overwhelmed all senses. I already felt my pants tighten as my lower body pitched a tent against the fabric of my underwear.

_Jesus, I can't wait until later. I need him right now._

Without breaking the kiss, I was thinking about going straight into bed with him. I barely realized that I had planned to have dinner with him at Bennigan's first, but fuck the plan. Dinner can wait. I have more pressing issues to deal with right now. I was sure Kyle was thinking about the same thing.

To my dismay, however, Kyle abruptly wrapped my cheeks with his hands and pushed my head away from him, breaking the kiss. What just happened? Surprised, it shot him an inquiring gaze. What made him break this perfect moment of reunion between us?

"Sorry, Stan. I've got works to do." He made an apologetic look, avoiding my gaze. "I have to prepare for that research project at Austin. I may have to work until late today, so you might want to go to bed first."

With that, Kyle quickly turned around to proceed to his room filled with a myriad of textbooks and a computer. Soon, all I could hear was the sound of almost furious tapping on the keyboard emanating from his room. Absolutely dumbfounded, I stayed in that exact position having trouble registering what just happened in front of me. Uh, what did he say again?

_I've got works to do. I have to prepare for the research project._

But what did they mean? I mean, he couldn't be serious, could he? Tomorrow's our first anniversary, and he would be leaving for Austin in three days. We were supposed to have all these days only to ourselves. There was simply no time to waste minding some stupid work or research projects. What was he thinking?

He said he missed me. He said he had been so lonely for the past three weeks when I was not around. And moreover, he fucking knows that I wanted to spend some time with him. He could do whatever research that he wanted to do in Texas, right? But clearly, Kyle seemed to be ditching me for his precious little research project. Why? Why should he throw me away for work like he just did?

"Stan?" My contemplation was interrupted when Kyle called me from his room. I tried to regain my composure, and cleared my throat with fake coughs. "Yeah?"

_I know it. He is going to take back what he said. He is going to say that he was wrong, and tell me he wanted to be with me instead of the stupid work of his. Yeah, I'm pretty sure._

"Don't forget to close the door."

…_Maybe not._

I rolled my eyes, turned around, and lifted two travel bags which were sitting outside the door the whole time. I moved them in, shut the door, and locked it as instructed by Kyle. It would be sheer redundancy to say that I began to feel disturbed at the insensitive behaviors of Kyle. He usually wasn't like this.

_Come on Stan, don't get carried away by such a small matter. Talk to him. Tell him that I want him to spend time with me instead of the computer._

Suppressing my unpleasant emotions, I strode down the hallway to stand in front of Kyle's room. Through the open door, I could clearly see Kyle sitting on his chair, his back to my side, gazing intently on some 3-D models displaying on the monitor. I tried to notify my presence to him by clearing my throat.

…He didn't look back.

"…Kyle?" I tried my best to hide my emotions when calling him. "Yes, Stan?"

He still didn't break his focus on the monitor.

The hot-tempered self inside me demanded that I approach him and turn him around to face me. But no, I'm his husband, right? I'm supposed to be understanding. Well, maybe what he was doing now was really important that it required his immediate attention. All I needed was a good, old-fashioned talk. Nothing more.

"I…I need to talk to you for a second."

"Not now, Stanley. Sorry, but as you can see, I'm extremely busy."

_Wow. Just wow. Has Kyle Broflovski even been this cold to me, or to anyone?_

This was a completely different Kyle from the one I knew. The Kyle I remember loving was someone who was always understanding and considerate, as long as the stupidity of the situation did not become too much for his rational mind to handle. Sure, we had our fair share of rough times before, but he would never treat me like this. I was deeply hurt. All I wanted was a simple take, and he said no, without even bothering to look at me.

My mind was now generating random scenarios. A mere thought of it gives sheer despair and sadness, but, is it that… he doesn't love me as much I love him? Is it that he grew tired of me, as our marriage got past the initial honeymoon period? Is it that he no longer enjoys my company as much as that of his work? I mean, tomorrow's our first anniversary, for God's sake! All I could think about for the last several days was him, and how to make him happy as we celebrate our happy marriage for the first time. But apparently, all Kyle could think about was his shitty computer and that shitty research project. Did he even care about me?

_No, Stan. Please. You're overreacting, and blowing it out of proportion. You're tired, you're emotionally distressed, and you're not capable of making rational decisions. Just let it pass, and you may talk to him later when he's done with his work. Okay?_

I could barely suppress my temper trying to take over my reason. Feeling defeated, I slowly walked away from Kyle's room and moved myself to the kitchen. The table was empty. There was no sign whatsoever indicating that Kyle had been preparing something. The dishes and utensils were arranged in a neat manner over the sink that he always liked. The sink itself was clean and dry, meaning that Kyle himself didn't have anything for dinner. Or at least he didn't have anything that required washing dishes.

Then I remembered, for the second time since entering the house, that I had planned to take Kyle to Bennigan's for supper. Even the nerdiest workaholic like Kyle wouldn't be able to attend his computer all night long without having anything to eat. As it seems that he hadn't have dinner yet, maybe I can coax him into having a dinner at the restaurant. There, I could tell him about how his remarks and behaviors hurt my feelings. Badly. With this in mind, I once again approached Kyle's room to talk him out of his work.

_Please, Kyle. Don't you dare reject this. I don't know what I'm going to do if you do._

Kyle, of course, was still facing me in the back. For the first time in a long time, I felt like throwing up due to sheer nervousness when confronting someone. I tried to swallow the sudden outbreak of saliva.

"Kyle? Did you have anything for dinner?" I prayed to God that he answered no.

"Oh, No, I forgot." Kyle answered, but still not breaking his gaze into the monitor.

"Really?" I felt somewhat relieved, with a genuine smile plastered over my face. "Well, I was thinking about going to Bennigan's for dinner. It's less than an hour drive. My treat."

"Oh, that so sweet of you." Although Kyle still refused to look back to me, I could see his smile partially reflected the monitor. It was working. It was about damn time he gave me some attention. But my hope to get everything back on track shattered at his next words.

"But sorry, Stan. Like I said, I really need to get this thing done." He continued, still not stopping his tapping on the keyboard. "I've been working on this all day long, and forgot to make your dinner. If you're hungry, there's some frozen pizza in the fridge. 90 seconds in the microwave, you know that, right?"

…

…

_Ha, Ha._

_Ha, fucking, ha._

Frozen pizza. Frozen friggin' pizza. He wants me to eat frozen slices of leftover pizza when I offered him to go to a fine family restaurant together, on the eve of our first anniversary.

…

Something snapped inside my head, and rage invaded every one of my brain cells.

"FINE!" I shouted, mustering all strength that was left in my body. If I was in the Himalayas, the force of my shout could have caused a serious avalanche.

Kyle literally jumped a few inches in the air, finally looking back to find out what just happened. My heart was pounding one hundred and fifty times a minute and I could feel blood raging under the skin of my face. "S, Stan?"

"I said FINE!" I continued shouting. "If you care more about your stupid work than me, well then go ahead!"

"Stan," Kyle made that apologetic look again. "I'm so sorry. I just needed to finish…"

"Do you have," I cut him off. "Do you have the slightest idea of how much I looked forward to this day, when I could meet you again? Do you have any idea of how much time I spent thinking about you when coming home? Do you know what I had in mind when I pressed the doorbell thirty minutes ago? I wanted to make you the happiest man on Earth, Kyle. I really did. I wanted to have a fantastic dinner with you. I wanted go to a musical, and spend time with you in that waterpark you said you wanted to go someday. And then," my visions blurred as tears began to well up in my eyes. "and then, I wanted to go to the cinema to watch this Paranormal thing together. I was ready to do anything that would make you happy. Did you know that?"

By the time I finished, his apologetic expression in his face had disappeared, replaced with a genuinely embarrassed look. "O, of course, Stan. I knew you cared about me." Then he stood up from his chair. "I always know you care about me, Stan. How could I not know?"

"Yeah, I can totally see that." I spat. "Tell me. Does this have anything to do with the argument we had about adoption last time?" Kyle seemed surprised that I brought out that topic. "No, I didn't think about that until you mentioned it just now."

"Then why do you treat me like this? Why do you act like I'm not even here?" I continued, still riddled with uncontrollable anger. "You know what? Screw this. I can't deal with this shit any longer. Sorry to interrupt you making out with your precious little computer. I'm gonna make myself scarce to leave you two alone." With that, I stomped my way out of his room and headed to the front door. I heard Kyle quickly following behind me, but didn't bother to look back.

"Stan, wait! You don't understand!" he sounded desperate.

"Oh, I think I understand very well, Mr. Broflovski." I tried to distance myself from him in an effort to demonstrate how frustrated I am. "I understand how hard it is to live with someone you don't care about." I reached the door by the time I finish the sentence, and undo the lock.

"But, Stanley," now he was almost crying, from the looks of it. "I love you. I love you more than anything in my life."

I let go of the doorknob, and turned around. "No." I came up with the coldest tone I could come up with, and glared daggers at Kyle. "You don't love me. Oh, but that's hardly a problem now." I debated briefly about whether to actually speak the next words, but I end up spitting them out. "Because I don't think I love you, either."

…_Oh, shit. What did I just say?_

I immediately regret saying that. That statement couldn't be more false. If it were in a court of law, I would have been sentenced to death for the most blatant perjury in the history of mankind. Of course I was angry and frustrated, but that was because I _loved_ him. Never in my lifetime have I questioned the sincerity of my feelings for Kyle. And that was not going to change in a million years. Why did have to say that?

And then I saw Kyle as I've never seen him before. Upon hearing my last words, his body completely stiffened. His eyes widened in disbelief, and his pupils lost focus. Technically, he was still looking at me, but in reality, he was not, as if he was zoning out. He looked exactly like a zombie that appeared in those horror films, except that he was not moving a muscle. The only thing showing that Kyle was still alive was the constant flow of tears on his cheeks, now forming small creeks leading from each eye to the collar of his shirt, soaking the fabric wet.

Now my mind was at crossroads. In this situation, I could do either of the following. First: let go of your little pride. Run to his side, and hug him. Say you're sorry and tell him that you didn't mean it. You said terrible words that could not be forgiven by one thousand deaths, but at least it would be a start.

Second: why falter? Who was the one that treated you like shit? Who was the one who ignored you and your feelings? He almost had you eat leftover pizzas on the eve of your first anniversary. Whatever the problem is, he is the one who caused it. So, he deserved whatever punishment you wanted to give him. Leave the house. Drive anywhere. I know you don't want to be here.

I briefly let my mind have a fierce debate on which option I should choose. Slowly, however, I came to the realization that the answer was already set. As much as Kyle was miserable, so was I. This wouldn't have happened unless he suddenly decided that he'd rather be with a computer and work than to spend time with me. There was really no going back.

I grabbed the doorknob again and turned it to open the door. It was already dark outside, as the sun set a long time ago.

"Don't wait for me."

Without looking back, I stepped into the darkness, and slammed the door shut behind me.

XxXxX

A/N: And that's the end of the first chapter. It's supposed to be a two-shot, and I have the rest of the story planned out, but only basically. Hopefully, it will become clear in the next chapter why Kyle was being kind of a jerk. I know it's such a crappy fic and I'm ashamed that this was the best thing I could produce spending the whole weekend. I'll try to update the rest of the story as soon as I can, but please note that I'm a slow writer stuck with tons of college workloads. It might even take a month or two…

This was the first thing I wrote in English, aside from a few research papers in college. I live in a non-English speaking country, and I've never been properly educated in English because I went to this shitty public school in the rural area where I was born. So I had to learn the language all by myself. That's the reason why I have the vocabulary of a five-year-old. It's a bad excuse, sorry, but it's true.

I'd absolutely appreciate it if anyone decides to leave reviews! If you have ideas as to how to improve this fic to a barely readable level, please share them! I'll take note of each and every one. Thank you.

-Jack Colquitt-


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: first of all, many thanks to angelswillfall, lily's mom09, m-adam ant, and kenny and kyle for their wonderful reviews! This was my first writing in English ever, and I was overjoyed to know that there were people out there who enjoyed my writings. Thanks for those who put this story to alert or favorited it as well.**

**Now, a little bit of announcement: sorry, but there will be at least one—possibly two—additional chapter(s) to this story. I intended it to be a two-shot, but it got longer than I expected. Details would follow at the end of the chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or any character present in this story. They belong to their rightful owners, and I do not intend to use them for any kind of profit.**

**Rating: T for minor languages; WILL go up for the next chapter.**

XxXxX

I sat mindlessly before the wheel of my Chevy Cruze—technically 'our' Cruze because Kyle and I shared it—, with my chest filled with an uncomfortable mixture of anger, sadness, and guilt. I've been driving like this for quite some time without any kind of specific destination in mind. For some reason, I didn't want to stop at anything. All part of my consciousness was concentrated on the wheel and the pedals so as not to allow anything else to penetrate and disturb the already fucked-up mind of mine. The ghost of the sinful past was chasing me, and it would catch up and tear me asunder should I ever allow myself to halt. Whenever I met an intersection with red light, I took a right turn so that I didn't have to wait for the signal to change. Technically, that meant I was going around the same few blocks of the town in a clockwise loop over and over. Of course, there was no way for my mind to register that simple fact. I could hardly care enough about the sight on the other side of the windshield, for I couldn't even handle what was going on inside my fucking head. The only thing that sometimes caught my attention was the occasional sound of honking and swearing from other disgruntled drivers about me being a bastard and how close I was to killing them.

_Don't you dare cross me, assholes. Not right now. I'm not in the fucking mood and I swear to God, I'm gonna strangle you with my bare hands and crush your neck and…_

When I was thinking about the best way to dismember whoever stupid enough to pick on me that night, I heard a "bing" sound coming from inside my car. Was that a text message? For the first time since I started the engine that night, I pulled over on the right side of the road and let it rest. If it indeed was a text, there was no one else that would text me at this time in this context but Kyle. At least that's what I thought. Was he going to apologize? Was he going to beg me to come back and talk it over?

But then it hit me that there was no guarantee that the contents of the text would only contain such benign words. I still clearly remembered what I said to him before I left.

_No. You don't love me. Oh, but that's hardly a problem now. Because I don't think I love you, either._

The sight of Kyle with that devastated look on his face was forever etched to my retina. Seriously, what did I have to say something that wasn't even remotely in my mind for? It would be no strange if he was incredibly pissed off at me. What if he was going to say that he didn't want me to come back home? I hated to think about this but, what if he wanted to… divorce?

The mere thought of it was enough to give me nausea. I was dying to find out what Kyle had to say after that, uh, thing, but at the same time scared to death if he was going to say he didn't want me anymore. Taking a deep breath, I shut my eyes closed slowly moved my right hand that had been resting on the wheel to reach the pocket of my pants. I felt the cool, metallic surface of my cell as I grabbed it and held it in front of my still closed eyes. I took another huge breath to brace myself for whatever fate that was about to befall me. Heart throbbing, I jolted my eyelids open.

There was nothing. The screen was pitch black.

Of course. My cell died long before the plane landed in New York that day.

_Jesus, Stan Marsh. You're such a retard._

I felt disappointed but relieved at the same time. It was as if God put off my sentencing for a week with me not knowing what his verdict actually held. But that left me another unanswered question. If my cell had been dead the whole time, where the hell did that beeping sound come from? I was pretty sure that it came from within the car, not from outside.

Looking around myself in the stopped car, I was able to find the answer without much trouble. On the LED screen of the dashboard, I noticed an unfamiliar symbol flickering in red. Struggling to find out what that sign meant, I found the indicator of the fuel gauge hanging dangerously low, even lower than the letter 'E.'

Shit. I was running low on gas. Kyle must have forgotten to fill the tank up. Presumably with his mind occupied with that precious research of his.

Letting out a deep sigh, I finally looked outside the car to find out where I was. I was a little bit surprised at the familiarity of the scenery outside. Only then did I notice that I was going around the few blocks repeatedly, ending up close to my house after thirty minutes of that furious driving. I was even able to see my house in distance, light seeping out of its front window.

I paused, contemplating on what I should do. This might be the chance I needed. The fact that the car died down provided an easy excuse for my early return. It had been only a half-hour since I left the house, so there might be a room for reconciliation before this situation plunged completely out of my control. Once again, I was standing in front of crossroads and found myself debating again.

First option: don't let your last chance go to waste. You see that house in front of you? There's someone who is in a desperate need of you. Put aside all your pride and logic, go home, and tell him you're sorry. You're the only person who can wipe away his tears. There's still a chance to make it alright.

Second option: please don't tell me you're even thinking about this again. There's no such thing as making it "alright." The whole matter concluded when you ran out of the house and slammed the door. And to remind you, you had every possible reason to do so. Remember, he almost had you eat frozen pizza. Okay, maybe I'm overreacting to that, uh, pizza thing, but that doesn't change the fact that he treated you like shit.

Fortunately, it didn't take too long for me to make a decision. I soon realized that there was a place that I wanted to be right now, but it was not Kyle's. Not that I didn't feel sorry for him, but stepping inside the house to confront him, especially what had transpired there thirty minutes earlier, was the last thing I wanted to do at the time being.

Determined, I moved the car back on the road again. I knew it was running low on gas, but it was not going to take more than fifteen minutes to get to the place I wanted to be. It was worth trying. Hell, what's the worst thing that could happen? The car dying down on the middle of the road would be nothing of a concern in comparison to what happened to me and Kyle that day.

The car ran past our home on the right. While it did so, I made my best effort to suppress every urge inside me to look inside the window.

XxXxX

_Christ, that was close._

I let out a sigh of relief as the engine exhaled its last exhausted breath and went completely quiet. Fortunately, though, I was able to "touch-down" the Cruze to the driveway "before the buzzer went off"—sorry for the terrible analogy there, but I WAS the football captain once before. Old habits die hard—. Someone's going to have a trouble when he finds a Cruze blocking the driveway directly in front of the garage, but I couldn't care less about the trivial misfortune of others when I had more pressing issues to deal with for myself. Moreover, I personally knew the owner of the house well and he was not the kind of person who would fume about the fact an old friend of his occupied a tiny portion of his extra space.

The property was Kenny McCormick's. Or at least it was when I paid him the last visit several months ago. We used to hang out at least three times a week when I first arrived at this city, but my new work at the insurance company was becoming one hell of a time constraint, and we didn't hang around as much as we had done before. Still, Kenny and I remained as best friends and would get drunk together especially when one of us was having some problems with his marriage. The last time when I visited him was when he called me at two in the morning after he had one of those little "fights" with Butters. Well, it was difficult to imagine how Kenny managed to agitate this ever-innocent and naïve Butters, but I picked him up anyway and ended up passing out in the restroom at a local pub.

And that was the kind of thing that I needed right now. To pass out and to forget what happened between me and Kyle that day. I stood in front of his front door, thought for a second about how to greet Kenny properly when he opens it, and then pressed the doorbell.

Ding, dong.

I waited expectantly, anticipating the familiar voice of my best friend answering the door. Soon, I could hear little footsteps coming to my direction.

"Hello? Mommy, is that you?"

I hiccupped. To the best of my knowledge, that voice did not belong to Kenny. At all. It was a little boy who was on the other side of the door, not him.

_Did he have a child? _

Not that I knew of. If he indeed had adopted a child, I would have been the first person to know, besides Butters, of course. Well, did he move or something?

I cleared my throat, and asked the boy inside. "Uh, is this the residence of Kenny McCormick?"

There was a brief moment of silence, and the boy finally answered. "No."

I couldn't help the feeling of disappointment churning inside my mind. It seemed like he moved after all. I even felt somewhat agitated not just because I wasted my time driving to his home with a dying car, but because he failed to notify me about his moving.

_A simple phone-call would have sufficed._

"Sorry, kid," I said turning around. "wrong address."

When I was about to head towards my dead car thinking about how to get home now that both my cell phone and my car were dead for good, a sudden remark was heard inside the door. "It's Stotch."

_Hmm? What did he say? Stotch? Like, Butters Stotch?_

"What do you mean?" I brought myself back to door and asked, curious as to what that little boy meant by his words. "I mean he is Kenny Stotch." Said the voice. "Not McCormick. He's my dad."

Oh. Right. It seems that Kenny not only adopted a child but changed his family name, too. This was going to be interesting, after all.

"Um, could you please tell your daddy that Stan Marsh is at the door?" I hoped he was home. "'Kay. He's taking a shower but I'll go ask." The voice replied, and I soon heard his footsteps going away. "Dad! A Stan Marsh is at the door!"

I couldn't make out the rest of the voice, but I was definitely sure that I heard the voice of an adult male along with that of the boy. Now a much-heavier series of footsteps approached the door.

"Stan?" I slightly grinned. That familiar voice belonged to Kenny. "Hey, Ken."

The door was jerked open, and it revealed a certain blond figure wearing plane white pajamas. "Hey, Stan! Long time no see! Come on in." "long time no see, buddy." I returned the welcome and stepped inside.

XxXxX

"Beer?" "Yes, please. Thanks."

I sat on a chair in his kitchen, watching Kenny fetching a pair of glasses from the cabinet. He was now changed to his regular clothes. By regular, I mean a short sleeved shirt with one of these I love New York printings and a pair of short pants. I still wasn't completely comfortable calling them his regular clothes, because I was so used to seeing him in his traditional orange parka that he insisted on wearing until the prom day at South Park High. Moving to New York somehow made him discard that terrible dressing option.

"So, what happened to that orange parka of yours, again?" That was not a sincere question, as I asked the same one the first day I saw him not in his parka. Kenny looked at me, grinning. "told you a hundrd times. I ripped it, burned it, and spread the remaining to Stark's Pond." He placed the glassed on the kitchen table, and headed towards the fridge to get some beer out of it. "I promised to Butters that I'd start living a new life as soon as we got out of that hick-town. That parka was like the incarnation of my terrible past and stuff. It had to go." He opened the fridge, surveying inside. "Oh. Guess we've got better things than beer." He pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels and held it to my side, shooting an inquiring look at me. "You feel up to it?"

"Yeah." I made an exaggerated yawn, stretching my arms sky-high. "The faster I can pass out, the better, I guess."

Kenny chuckled, placing the bottle of whiskey on the table and pulling out a chair to have a seat beside me. "Don't throw up on the carpet. Butters is going to be furious if you do."

"Well, I'll try." I smirked. "Speaking of Butters, where is he?" "Oh, he's got an evening cooking class." Kenny answered delightedly. "You know, he's pursuing career in culinary arts, and he was offered a job to teach some businessmen and women how to cook a food or two. Because they all are working, the only time they can attend cooking classes is at night. He wouldn't come until eleven." He stared at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall. "That leaves us slightly less than two hours."

"Good."

XxXxX

"So, what brings the almighty Stan Marsh here at this time at night?" Kenny asked, filling my glass with the brown, intoxicating liquid yet again. "Nothing." I tried to appear calm and normal. "It's been like, months since we hung around, you know. Guessed I could use some of my free time to get buzzed with my best friend." I stared into his blue eyes with a grin. "Anything wrong with that?"

"Of course not." I could read from his face that he was enjoying my company as well. "It's just that I'm kinda surprised you still remembered that I even existed."

"Oh, excuse me, sir. I didn't know you were there. My name's Stan Marsh. Nice to meet you." He returned my joke amusedly. "Kenny Stotch here. Nice to meet you too." I gulped down a mouthful of Jack, feeling its bitterness making its way through the esophagus to reach the stomach. Now was the time I asked what happened to him since I last met him.

"So, um, how come did you change your name?" I tried not to sound too rude. "and since when did you have a child?" Kenny emptied his glasses and looked at my side. I felt kinda relieved at his facial expression, as he was the happiest Kenny I've ever seen in a long time. "It's almost been three weeks. We adopted Nick from a local orphanage where Butters had been volunteering as daytime chef for quite some time and decided to go by one family name from the day he came home." He still didn't lose his happy look while he continued. "To be honest, I'm almost glad that I finally got rid of that McCormick name. It reeked of poverty, alcohol, and pretty much everything else that I grew to despise. Besides," he stared at a picture of him and Butters together that was stickered to the front side of the fridge. "I was officially one with Butters. That alone was more than enough reason to change the name."

"I see." I nodded. "But how come you kept your best friend completely oblivious about such an important development?" "Oh, believe me, Stan." He once again directed his stare at me. "The first thing I did after making Nick go to bed the first night was to call your home. Kyle answered and told me you were off to London and stuff. I was going to tell you after you got home, but didn't know you were back until you were here."

"Ah, yeah. I see." Well, that made sense. But I couldn't help but feel a bit uncomfortable as I heard Kenny saying Kyle's name for the first time since we began to drink. I made my best effort to conceal the emotional turmoil inside me as I silently poured Jack into his empty glass. I was never good at hiding emotions, though, and it didn't take long for Kenny to realize that something was off.

Kenny cleared his throat. "Stan, now is the right time to tell me the real reason why you decided to come here." He formed a concerned look on his face. "My intuition tells me it's about Kyle, am I right?"

"Nah, there's nothing wrong with us." That was my pathetic, last-ditch effort to deny that Kenny already discovered what I tried so hard to hide from him. Again. I mean, he sometimes was like a psychic or something. He could see directly through people's face to know what they had in mind. I thought it was one contributing factor to his ability to get into the pants of so many chicks—and dudes—in high school. Before he discovered his "one true love" and settled on Butters, that is.

"Ah, come on," Kenny pressed further. "You're the worst liar I've ever seen in my life. Well, not exactly the worst because there is always Butters on top of the list, but that still makes you the second-worst. I mean, seriously, tomorrow's like, your first anniversary! You're not supposed to be here unless something's terribly wrong!"

"What?" I was kinda surprised. I didn't remember telling him about our anniversary. "How did you know that it was tomorrow?"

"Kyle told me. But that's not important here." Now Kenny looked desperate. "Please, Stan. You know you can always count on me. I won't tell anybody. Except for Butters."

I had to chuckle a little bit to his remark, although I knew it was not the most appropriate time to do so. If he ever was going to succeed in getting me to talk, then I would be bringing him into some serious shit.

"Alright…" I sighed heavily, acknowledging my defeat. I didn't think that I could get away with it without telling him the truth in the end. If someone had to find out, I'd prefer him over anyone else.

"You can start from the beginning." Kenny leaned to my side. "Whenever you're ready, friend. You know I'm a good listener."

"Okay," I thought about how to explain the matter to him for a second, and decided to start from the flight back home that day. "Today, I caught a plane from London to New York. All I could ever think of was Kyle and our first anniversary tomorrow..."

XxXxX

Kenny listened intently to my story. By the time I finished the part where I said the terrible words to Kyle and bolted out of the house, he was looking at me with very serious look, his eyes furrowed and his chin resting on his right hand. "Um, okay, let me rephrase that last part." His looks didn't change a bit. "you felt Kyle did not love you back because he was treating you terribly, and then you began shouting those random words, and drove here to get drunk and pass out."

"That's perhaps too much of a simplification," I answered, "but basically, yes."

Kenny seemed to indulge himself into a deep contemplation, and then all of a sudden, began to chuckle soon escalated into a full laughter.

"What? What's so funny?" I didn't try to hide my hurt feelings, because I was damn serious about the issue. There was nothing remotely laughable in my story. My marriage could be heading towards complete destruction without lasting one single year. How could he be so rude as to laugh out loud at the misery of his best friend?

"I'm sorry Stan, *cough* I'm really, really sorry." Kenny still seemed unable to fully control his breath. "Please don't get me wrong, but I think you may be nominated for the biggest douche in the universe award this year."

_What the hell is he talking about?_

I was at a loss of what to say. Did he mean it? I mean, I explained what was wrong between me and Kyle as he asked me to do, and now what? He accused me of being the biggest douche in the universe. And did he expect me not to be offended by that remark? Well, he was not exactly the most polite person in New York for sure, but I didn't expect him to be this blunt.

While I was having difficulty thinking about an appropriate way to respond to his accusation, Kenny's laugh finally died down and he shot me an apologetic look, much like what Kyle made hours ago. "Sorry, dude. I couldn't help it."

"Help what?" I snarled. "You mean I had to suck it all up and pretend as if nothing was wrong? For Christ's sake, Kenny, if you were in my position, you wouldn't have handled things better than I did. I thought I made my point about that."

"Yeah, yeah. You handled it better than most other people would have." Kenny still refused to erase that smirk on his face. "But there is a problem, Stanley. The person you're talking about is Kyle. The Kyle. Now, I don't claim that I know everything about him, but there is one thing that I can say about him with one hundred percent certainty."

"And what's that?" I thought I already knew what he was going to say. "The fact of the matter is," he didn't even blink while he spoke the whole sentence. "He loves you, Stan. He loves you more than anything else on this planet, or perhaps in this universe. He's the kind of person who would sacrifice everything he has to be with you and make you happy."

"Yeah, that's exactly what I thought." My reply was riddled with sarcasm. "But apparently, I was wrong. There was something that he loved more than me. Work." I turned my gaze away from Kenny and stared mindlessly at the glass in front of me.

"Then you're wrong again." Kenny didn't back down. "He would never ditch you for his work."

"Excuse me?" I was officially irritated now. "I thought _I_ was his husband. How come you know what Kyle thinks better than I do?"

Kenny was stubborn. "Because I've seen him, Stan. I was able to see what he did in those three weeks when you were minding your own business in London. And as long as this matter is concerned, I know better than you. The only reason Kyle would treat you like he did is…"

"Oh, stop it, Kenny. I know what you're trying to do." I interjected.

_He's being this little angel of love again._

I knew Kenny well. Or at least I thought I knew him very well. He was a master of patching things up. Whenever one of his friends was going through some rough time in his relationship, he was the one who would become a bridging stone and help him reconcile with his significant other. Had it not been for him, Craig and Tweek would never have overcome that large fight they had in high school. And damn it, Kenny was good at what he was doing.

"What is it that you think I'm trying to do, then?" Kenny shared an irritated look with me.

"You're trying to make me feel better," I retorted matter-of-factly. "so that I can patch things up with Kyle. But I don't think it's gonna work this time, Kenny. I really, really don't."

To my surprise, Kenny was clearly agitated by what I just said. "What? Do you think I'm making things up so that you two can get together? Is that what you think I'm doing here?" I could see flames ignited in his eyes. "Then, Stanley Marsh, you're wrong again. I stopped doing that kind of thing a long time ago. Especially when I have my own relationship to mind."

"Oh, really?" I was determined not to succumb so easily. "Then let me guess at what you were going to say to me. You were going to say that Kyle was working hard on his research so that he can have the anniversary all to himself without having to worry about the work. Right?"

Kenny didn't answer. That gave me the confidence in my belief and motivated me to continue.

"But there is one little problem with your theory, Kenny. The research doesn't begin until next Monday. He doesn't even have to work until then to begin with! Without a doubt, he was ditching me for a work that he didn't even have to do! What would you say about that?"

Now I was really confident that emerged victorious from that small debate. Until Kenny reluctantly opened his mouth."

"You… don't really know anything about the research, do you?"

_What? Why did he suddenly decide to talk about the research?_

"Uh, no." I admitted. "the only things I know are that it's going to be in Texas and that Kyle has to fly there first thing on Monday."

"Okay, I see…" Kenny paused for a second, and then let out a deep sigh.

"What was that about?" Now I was really becoming confused.

"Well, Kyle's gonna shred me into a million pieces once he finds out I told you this." He emptied another glass of Jack. "But I'm doing him a service here, so maybe he'll go easy on me."

"What? Don't be a jerk, Kenny. Just shoot it." It was funny, because I realized that the situation was completely reversed now. When we started to drink, he was dying to hear what happened between me and Kyle. Now, I was the one who was desperate to find out what he had in his mind.

Kenny made an uncomfortable smile on his face. "Do you know when this research started?"

"Like I wouldn't know that. Its July 29, next Monday." It was right then that I realized that there was something wrong with his question. "Wait a minute… you said 'did'?"

"Finally." Kenny smirked. "the research began on this Monday, July 22."

"What?" I was dumbfounded. "How come? I mean, he said it will begin on next Monday."

"Yeah, I'm sure he told you so."

What? What exactly did Kenny know? And how is this research thing related to our anniversary crisis? The confusion was giving me a serious headache.

"Kenny, please." I pleaded. "You're hiding something, right? I want you to tell me. Everything."

"Everything?" Kenny looked back, looking unsure about what he was going to do.

"Everything." I demanded.

Kenny finally gave in. "Well, okay. I'll tell you everything I know. From the very beginning."

He looked at me with the most serious look ever. "Now, listen to me very carefully."

XxXxX

**A/N: That's how the second chapter ends. I'm sorry for those who expected to see the definite answer in this chapter, but I couldn't possibly fit the rest of the story which would easily exceed another 5K words into this. The answer to this whole debacle would become clear in the following chapter, so please bear with me. As much as I want to finish this story, I also want it to be thorough and developed.**

**That being said, please tell me what you think about this chapter! I was motivated to update the story earlier than I thought thanks to the kind reviewers. But please note that I can't make any promises. One of my college team projects is due in one week and the finals are in three weeks, so I might have to put writing this story off until the semester ends.**

**Thank you.**

**-Jack Colquitt-**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Special thanks to ILoveStanMarsh, lily's mom09, m-adam ant, and Kenny and kyle for their fantastic reviews. I love you all!**

**Note 1: This chapter largely comprises Kenny's flashback, except for the last three lines. In this chapter and this chapter only, "I" refers to Kenny, instead of Stan—again, except for the last three lines—. Please keep that in mind :)**

**Note 2: this chapter is really conversation-heavy, due to its retrospective nature.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or any character present in this story. They belong to their rightful owners, and I do not intend to use them for any kind of profit.**

**Rating: T for coarse languages; WILL definitely go up in the next—and final—chapter.**

**XxXxX**

I waited patiently as I held the receiver. The clock indicated that it was only one hour to midnight. Making Nick go to bed was, honestly speaking, a nightmare, as this was his first day in his new home with his new family. He was only two years old, so it was no wonder that he felt uncomfortable adjusting to an unfamiliar environment far away from the children shelter. Butters said he would sleep in Nick's room for the first few days to help him stay asleep and give him comfort in case the child wakes up in the middle of the night. Well, that meant I had to sleep alone in the bedroom for the time being. I suddenly remembered what people said about child-raising: it damages your relationship.

Now that Nick was sound asleep in his bed beside Butters—who was equally sound in his restful state—, my first priority was to inform my best friend Stan about this new addition to the family. That was the why I was holding the receiver eleven o'clock in the night, fighting every urge to drop dead on my bed and get some rest after fighting an incredibly busy day.

After a few seconds of ringtone, I could hear somewhat groggy voice of Kyle. "Hello, Broflovski speaking."

"Uh, hey Kyle, it's Kenny." I felt a bit sorry, realizing that I might have disturbed him sleeping. "Sorry I'm calling this late. Did I wake you up?"

"Oh, hey, Kenny! No, not at all. I was just a little bit tired, that's all." Kyle said cheerfully. "So, what's the matter?"

"Ur, I have a little news to break. Can I talk to Stan first?"

"Oh, sorry. You barely missed him. He flew to London for a business trip yesterday." I didn't miss the cheer in Kyle's tone dying down. "He wouldn't be back in three weeks, until July 26."

"Oh, that's too bad." That was a genuine expression of my sympathy. I'm well known for my ability to read people's minds; the redhead was the type of person who can easily get depressed in the absence of his loved one.

"Well, if it's urgent, you can try his cell. Just keep in mind England is in a different time zone from the East Coast. It's like, four in the morning there." Kyle noted. "Or you can just let me know, and I can bring the news to Stan when we're doing Skype."

"That's so kind of you, but I don't think that would be necessary." I decided to tell Kyle the news. "You know, um, we adopted a child today."

"Oh, _really_?" I had to distance myself from the receiver for a second as Kyle practically shouted to the phone, causing my earbud to ache. "Uh, yeah."

"That's fantastic!" Kyle was incessant.

"A boy? A girl?" "A boy."

"How old is he?" "Two years old."

"Where did you, uh, meet him?" "The Guardian Angels Shelter for Children. Butters volunteers there."

"Sounds great! What color is his hair?" "Blonde. It's spiky and stands up everywhere. Reminds me of Tweek sometimes."

"Jesus, that's so cute!" I grinned. Kyle got easily excited when talking about children. I wondered why he hadn't got any kid yet. He would surely make a good parent. "You got sixteen questions left, Kyle."

"Oh, I'm sorry." His tone finally lowered down. "I do this kind of thing a lot. Stan keeps complaining that I sound exactly like Sharon to him whenever I do this." He chuckled. "Congratulations, Kenny. I envy you."

I smiled. Seeing that he loves children so much, maybe I could do him a little favor.

"Maybe you wanna see him?"

**XxXxX**

"Hey, Ken." Kyle formed a bright smile at the sight of his old friend opening the door for him.

"Hey. Long time no see. Come in." I greeted the redhead standing in front of me. "Butters told me to wake him up when you're here, but I think he could use some extra sleep now. Nick woke up for a total of thirteen times last night and both of them should be pretty exhausted."

"That's okay." he stepped inside and closed the door. "Um, do you think I can have a sneak peek at Nick for a second? You don't have to wake anyone up."

"Sure, but try not to make too big a noise."

"I won't."

I led him to the half-closed door to Nick's room where the two blonds were deep in slumber. I could see Nick facing our direction, with a blanket covering his body from chest to toe. I looked at Kyle, and he seemed almost mesmerized at the sight.

"Oh my God, Kenny." He didn't break his gaze to the boy. "He looks so peaceful. And you were right about his hair. He does look like Tweek, minus all the twitching and spazzing."

"Actually, he's as shy as Tweek once was. His biological parents were neglectful and abusive. He wouldn't talk to anyone and jumped at anyone's touch when Child Protection Services finally rescued him." I bit my lower lip, feeling terrible about my kid. "We could understand the hardship he had to go through, as both Butters and I grew up under irresponsible parents. As soon as we heard the story from the children's shelter, we decided we couldn't let another innocent child suffer the same fate of ours. We wanted to show him that he, too, can be loved."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't know he had such a terrible history." Kyle pulled me into a hug, patting on my back. "It's a noble thing you're doing here. I have no doubt that you'll be the most perfect father that any child could possibly hope for."

"I hope so, Kyle. I hope so." I returned the hug and remained in that same position as I once again made a silent pledge to make Nick a happy kid who was beloved by his parents. I broke the embrace as I smelled the sweet scent of hazelnut seeping from the kitchen.

"Coffee seems ready. Let's have some."

**XxXxX**

If there's one thing about coffee, it would be that it makes a fantastic combo with donuts. Together they make a perfect side to be served whenever there is a little talk going on. Kyle and I have never seen each other for a very long time, so we had a plenty of topics to talk about. When the topic moved on to Kyle's marriage, I decided it was time I put forward the one I had in mind.

"So, I can see that you're a big fan of children, am I right?" I asked, dipping another glazed donut into the coffee.

"Yeah, you can definitely say that." Kyle licked on sticky sugar on his fingers.

"And you and Stan have been married for like, a year by now, huh?"

"Yeah… Actually, our first anniversary is less than three weeks away. It's 27th." He reached for another donut as he said that.

"Good for you!" I tried not to sound too invasive into his personal when asking the next question. "Then why don't you adopt a child? You like children, and your new life in this state has stabilized a lot. Isn't it time to consider expanding your family and stuff?"

I almost immediately regretted brining up that particular topic as I could see his face noticeably darken. "Yeah, um…" his hand stopped moving in the middle of the air, a few inches from the donut dish. "I gave it some serious thought, but basically… Stan wouldn't let me."

"What? Seriously?" I was taken off guard. Stan was capable of being stubborn sometimes for sure, but I didn't think he was insensitive enough to deny Kyle what he so desperately wanted. "How come he became such a dick?"

"No, no, Kenny, actually he is right." Kyle shook his head in strong denial. "We don't have enough time to raise children. _I_ don't have enough time to do it. Taking this year for example, I have to attend a very important research project for about a month in Texas as a graduate assistant. I agree with what Stan said: we should wait for the time when we can afford to properly take care of our new child."

"Research project?" Kyle was doing a research? "What research project?"

"Uh, we're designing this new metrological model to better explain and predict severe weathers. Tornadoes and hurricanes and stuff. I was assigned to data collection and analysis team, and the job begins on 22nd."

"Wow. Sounds complicated." I remarked.

"It _is_ complicated. Actually, data collection and analysis is the most labor-intensive process of all." Kyle formed a bitter smile on his face. "I'm gonna have one hell of a summer."

"It seems you will."

It was apparent for everyone who met Kyle once that he never cut himself a slack. If I were him, I'd never do anything that remotely resembles work at least for a month after grading three hundred undergraduate essays during the spring quarter. But he's Kyle after all, and he's going to be gone for his new research in Texas in less than two weeks.

…Wait, two weeks?

"Uh, excuse me Kyle," Maybe I heard the date wrong. "You said Stan comes back from London on 26th, and the anniversary is the day after. But if the research begins on 22nd…"

Kyle made a forced smile. "Yeah, it seems you got them right."

"Then, you're going to be in Texas when Stan comes back home? And, what about the anniversary?"

"Yeah, that was the real problem…" Kyle trailed off. "Well, I contacted the head of the research team for that matter and asked if I can start the work a little later than scheduled."

"And?" I had no idea as to where this was going. "What did they say?"

"Basically, they said yes."

"Well, that's a good news! Getting to spend some time with Stan, and still not losing your position. It's like eating a cake and at the same time keeping it." I said cheerfully, fully expecting Kyle to return the same expression. He didn't.

"Um, to be perfectly honest, I didn't pull that out without paying some price." He now had a somewhat depressed look. "To compensate for the late entry, they almost doubled the share of my work. Guess I'll be spending whole July in front of my workstation at home."

"Oh…"

Now I was beginning to see what was happening. Kyle was allowed to work at home for the first few days of the research so that he can spend the anniversary with Stan. But the company was not generous enough to let him slack a little, and it gave him lots and lots of more work to do in order to compensate for his 'privilege.' How nice of them. Stan would be furious if he found this out.

"Does Stan know?" I asked.

"No!" Kyle seemed startled at my question, as if I muttered a blasphemy against something that he held most dear. "He doesn't know and he shouldn't. Look, Kenny, you gotta promise me that you'll never gonna tell Stan. Please."

"Um, yeah, that's not a difficult promise to make at all. But then again, why not? Don't you think he deserves to know what you're going through?"

"You're good at reading people's minds, Kenny." Kyle stated matter-of-factly. "Do you think Stan would let me do this kind of thing when he finds out the whole ordeal? Believe me, he was staunchly opposed to the very idea of me doing research. He said that I didn't have to work for money until I get a real job, because he could take care of any financial matter between us all by himself. I had to lie to Stan to finally convince him that it was not about money, but about my experience as an academic."

"Wait a second, Kyle." This was getting deeper and deeper. "You lied to Stan?"

"Sort of." He seemed a little restless, playing with his own fingers. That was Kyle's habit when he felt embarrassed or apprehensive. "I really needed that money from the research."

"But, Kyle, Stan was right. He earns a handsome amount of money from the job he does at the insurance company. You shouldn't worry about any financial problem. I mean, he pays for your fucking tuition! Stan can pretty much take care of everything."

"Don't you get it, Kenny?" Kyle shot a sharp glance at me. "That is the whole problem. He does everything for me. But what about me? I don't get any opportunity to do anything for him. He wouldn't let me!"

"But Kyle, it's because Stan loves you. He doesn't want you to be involved in excessive work because he cares about you so much."

"I know, I know." His stare softened down. "But I really wanted to be able to do something for him. Something nice. And I actually came up with a plan for doing it this year."

"Namely?" I inquired.

"A trip to Japan. You know, Stan is a big fan of the whole Japanese culture and he talks about how much he wants to travel to Japan someday in his life every other day."

"Woo-hoo, Japan. It's as far away as a country can be from New York."

"True that. That's why I needed some extra money. I'm gonna get paid 1.5 grand for this research, and I've been saving up all the money I got from teaching extra hours in college summer sessions. That would make just enough to spend a few good days in the Eastern country, home of Chinpokomon."

I snorted. "And you were saving it as something like a surprise gift for Stan?"

Kyle nodded. "I was eventually going to tell him on the anniversary day."

"Gee, Kyle," I had to chuckle a little bit. God, they just care about each other so much. Nothing in this world would ever succeed in separating those two. "That's, wow, moving. I'm sure Stan's gonna be impressed at your meticulous planning."

"You think so?" Kyle blushed a little. "I don't know. I just want to make him happy. He says that the mere fact of me being with him is more than enough to make him happy, but I want to do something concrete and specific."

"I see, I see." Like I said, nothing was going to separate those two. Butters and I got along together just well, but there was something more special about the relationship between Stan and Kyle. Maybe because they've been super best friends since the beginning of time and learned inside and out about each other very well.

"Then, um, are you okay to be here, Kyle? You said you have a lot of work to do."

"What time is it?"

"Almost four."

"Already? Oh well, I gotta be going, then." Kyle finished his now sugar-tasting coffee and sat up from the table. "Thanks for the coffee and stuff. I really enjoyed it."

"My pleasure. Nice seeing you again, Kyle. Let me know how the work's going."

"I will. And, um," That apprehensive look again. "Can I ask you a favor?"

"And what would that be?" I smirked.

Kyle avoided my gaze "Can I, uh, see Nick for the last time?"

I chuckled. He just couldn't help it, could he?

"Go ahead. Just make sure you don't wake them up."

**XxXxX**

Ding, dong.

_Please, for God's sake, answer the door._

I was standing in front of Stan and Kyle's house. It was Thursday, July 25, just one day before Stan's scheduled return from England. Earlier that day, I tried to reach Kyle multiple times to check on how the work's going, because he failed to call me even once since the day we had a little talk over hazelnut coffee and donuts—I was pounded on by Butters for not waking him up later that day, may I add—. However, Kyle never answered the phone. I couldn't get rid of the ominous feeling that something was definitely wrong, so I called it a day an hour earlier than usual and drove all the way up here to check on Kyle. But no matter how many times I furiously pressed the doorbell, only silence greeted me from inside the house. Feeling anxious, I began to pound on the door, shouting.

"Kyle, are you home? Hello?"

…Still no answer. I briefly considered breaking into the house, and then figured it would be a little bit too extreme. What if Kyle shows up with groceries on each side of his arms, asking why I had to break the door and get inside the empty house? It would not be so easy to come up with a plausible excuse in that situation.

Giving up, I turned around to towards my GMC pick-up truck. Right then, I noticed that the curtain inside the front window was tugged to the side. Seeing that, I decided to take a brief peek inside to see if Kyle was there.

The living room was dark, because there was no light on. All I could make from the outside was the couch, the TV set, a pc monitor from across, the green carpet on the floor, and…

…A dark, limp figure.

…Lying on the carpet.

…Face-down.

…

_Oh, shit._

Without thinking about it, I instantly started banging on the front door with all strength I could muster at that time. The door made a cracking sound on the first contact, and on the second, the lock broke off, allowing me to enter the premise.

I ran to the living room as fast as I could, flipped the light switch on, and held the aforementioned figure in my arms turning him to face me.

It was Kyle, of course.

I placed my hand in directly under his nose to check if he was still breathing. When I felt the flow of air coming from inside the nostrils, I praised the name of Jesus for a thousand times. I shaked him frantically in a desperate attempt to wake him up.

"Kyle! Oh, for almighty fuck's sake! Can you hear me? Come on, wake up!"

Then I saw his fingers twitch. His eyes fluttered as if he was trying to open them, although in vain. He took a few deep breaths, and long moans escaped from his mouth.

"mmmm…"

I thought he mumbled some words along with moans, but I couldn't make it out.

"What? Kyle, I can't hear you. What did you say? Do you want me to fetch some medicine? Do I have to call 911?"

"S…Stan…"

…He was calling Stan's name.

"Stan… is that… you?"

"No, sorry, Kyle." I felt deeply sorry that I wasn't him. In no other time did I want to be Stanley Marsh so desperately. But there was no way I could lie. "It's Kenny. Your good friend Kenny Stotch."

"Kenny?"

His eyes finally began to open slowly. But they were so different from what I remembered. If I recall it correctly, Kyle's eyes were supposed to be exuberant of the bright color of emeralds, posing a stark contrast with his black pupils. Instead, the eyes in front of me were all puffy and bloodshot. The green irises were devoid of any glistening.

"Kyle, you okay? What the fuck happened to you? Is it diabetic shock or something?"

"Oh…"

Kyle seemed to have difficulty registering what was going on around him. No wonder, I thought, because he just awakened from that…faint? coma? seizure? or whatever he was having until just fucking now. If it was indeed related to diabetes Kyle had since early childhood, I shouldn't be wasting precious time like this. I reached the pocket and drew the cell phone out.

"Just hold on a second, Kyle. I'm gonna call the 911 for ya."

Then I quickly dialed the three digits. The very moment I was going to press the send button, however, a hand from beneath grabbed the phone and pulled it down away from me.

"Please…"

Kyle was holding it.

"Please… don't."

"Don't what, Kyle?" I was agitated. "Maybe you don't appreciate the seriousness of this situation, but you were fucking lying on the floor when I got here. Since you were not answering my call since this morning, there is a good chance that you've been like that for fucking hours! You need medical attention, buddy. Now give me back my phone."

"No, Kenny, I'm fine. I really am."

Saying that, Kyle pulled himself back up and sat up by himself.

"See? I can sit up all by myself. It'll go away any minute. Just give me a few seconds."

I was at a loss of what to do. Shouldn't I really call an ambulance? Was Kyle really okay without professional medical attention? I wanted answers.

"Tell me, Kyle." I stared directly into his eyes. "What the hell happened?"

He returned my gaze, and apparently forced an unnatural smile as if he was trying to calm me down. "I'm really okay, Kenny. I was just really tired and must have fainted. It happened quite a few times for the last couple of weeks."

I was left speechless. He was talking about his "faint" as though it meant nothing. And what did he mean when he said it happened "quite a few times"?

"Jesus, Kyle. You say like it's normal. I can assure you, it is not. It's not fucking normal to have a faint like every other day. Now let me have my cell phone back so I can call 911."

I reached out my hand to snatch the phone from Kyle's hands, but he simply held it away from me.

"I said I was okay, Kenny. I just need to eat. That's all."

"…"

At least he seemed to have recovered enough to have an argument with me like this. But he just needs to eat? Is that really all he needed?

"Kyle, when's the last time you ate something?"

"Uh… I dunno…"

I sighed. "Estimate."

"Um… I think I had some snacks two nights ago."

"Oh, fuck you, Kyle. There goes the reason! No one can eat nothing for friggin' two days without fainting! What were you thinking?"

"…"

He didn't give any answer, but I already knew the answer very well.

"You've been doing that research thing again, am I wrong?"

Kyle didn't answer this time either, but soon he silently nodded in acknowledgment.

I tugged on my hair in disbelief. "Why, Kyle? Why do you do things like this? Why don't you take care of yourself first before taking care of your work?"

Kyle looked like he was on the brink of bursting into tears. "I…I just wanted to get over with it as soon as possible. Then I can have those three days with Stan all to ourselves without having to worry about the work."

"…"

I was made speechless again. Even in such a terrible situation, all he could think of was Stan. He was going to kill himself someday if he continued doing this.

"You're a damn idiot, Kyle." I meant it. Love can make reduce a genius like Kyle Broflovski into a complete moron blinded by stupid emotions.

Kyle chuckled. "Maybe I am, after all."

I gave up trying to call 911. There was no way I could convince him to go to the hospital. It was just out of the question. Instead, I had somewhere else that I wanted to call in mind.

I spread my right palm horizontally in front of Kyle, and demanded. "Now give me back my cell, you moron."

"I said no 911."

"I'm not calling 911, you stupid. I'm gonna order you a pizza. You said you needed something to eat, right? You're not in a shape to cook even a pop-tart, so I'm doing you a favor here. Now hand the phone over and tell me what your favorite is."

Kyle's eyes widened a little bit, and he reluctantly handed my phone back to me.

"Uh, Kenny, you don't have to do this."

"Kyle, you smartass, I'm not doing this because I have to. I do it because I want to, and I choose to. As a friend, I mean. Now shut up, and tell me what your favorite is."

A genuine smile was soon plastered over his face.

"…Thanks, Ken. Hawaiian, please."

"Hawaiian, huh? I didn't know you liked it."

"It's actually Stan's favorite."

I let out the deepest sigh, feeling absolutely defeated. Kyle was all over Stan. Nothing was ever going to change that.

"Okay, Juliet. Now lie on the couch and get some rest while I place order."

"But, Kenny, I have works to…"

"No 'but,' Kyle. I'm not letting you do any of your fancy work until you finish at least three slices."

"…Three slices?"

"Including crusts."

"…"

"Now, Kyle," I pressed further into him. "Do I have your word?"

Kyle rolled his eyes. "…Yes, sir. You have my word."

"Good. Now lie down."

I helped Kyle get up and fetched a blanket from one of the closets in the bedroom. While I was looking for the right-sized blanket, I saved every document he was writing on his computer and shut the computer down, pulling the cords off afterwards. As Kyle lay down on the couch, I gave him the blanket and dialed the local pizza chain to order a large Hawaiian. By that time, I realized that I was yearning for a cigarette.

"I'm gonna check on my car, so stay put. Don't do anything stupid."

"I won't"

As I approached the now-broken front door, I heard Kyle calling me once again.

"Kenny?"

"What?" I turned around to face the source of the voice.

"…Thank you."

"…No problem."

**XxXxX**

That one cigarette was a bliss. Although Butters didn't like to see me smoking at all and gave sermons everyday to make me quit, today I fucking deserved it. I've been cutting down on my smoking anyway, so just one more today wouldn't hurt my lung. Much.

As I was trying to fix the lock to the front door, the delivery vehicle arrived. It was thirteen and something, so I pulled out sixeen from my wallet and let him keep the change.

With a large Hawaiian pizza in my hands, I triumphantly marched through the hallway to get back to the living room again.

"Kyle? Pizza's here."

There was no answer. Soon, I found that Kyle was sound asleep on the couch, in the exact position that he was in when I gave him the blanket.

I grinned, opened the box, and picked a slice out. Damn, Hawaiian tasted good. Maybe I can order one for my family when having pizza for dinner.

I put the rest of the pizza in the fridge, and left a post-it memo stickered to its surface.

_Three slices. Don't forget the deal._

Checking on a sleeping Kyle once again, I turned the light off, and left the house.

**XxXxX (End of Flashback)**

I remained silent as Kenny finished his story. It felt… surreal.

"So," Kenny asked, holding a now empty bottle of Jack Daniels.

"Do you still think that Kyle doesn't care about you?"

**XxXxX**

**A/N: That's third part of the story. The next chapter would definitely be the last one. I hope you enjoyed the little revelation about Kyle. The chapter almost sounded like K2, which I think is adorable XD**

**As you can see, now I'm collecting back some plot items that I placed in the story as it nears its end. Apparently, the frozen pizza that Stan was fuming over in the first chapter was Hawaiian, after all :D**

**Unfortunately, I'm putting this story on hiatus until I'm done with the semester finals. One of the most important projects is due in two days, and then the final period week starts on Dec. 12. I slacked on course reading while writing this story, so I really need to start studying to avoid getting C/Ds. I even registered for a winter special session course after that, not because I like college but because I need those three credits to graduate :( I'll try to conclude the story by the end of December. Ideas are popping up all over my head for other stories, so I'm gonna start writing them as soon as I conclude this one.**

**Thank you for reading! Please tell me how you think about this chapter!**

**- Jack Colquitt**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: The tip of my hat to lily's mom09, kenny and kyle, and ILoveStanMarsh for your continuous support! As much as my writing sucks, there's nothing that brings me more joy than the fact that there are some people who still appreciate my work. Thank you for those who favorited/put this story on alert as well.**

**I must first apologize for breaking the promise though: there is still one chapter left after this one. Please hold your tomatoes and cabbages. The first draft of the original concluding part was 11k in length, and I decided to break it up to make it more comfortable to read. I'll update the rest of the story as soon as I finish proofreading and revising it.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or any character present in this story. They belong to their rightful owners, and I do not intend to use them for any kind of profit.**

**Rating: T for slightly coarse languages. WILL go up for the next chapter (that's the fourth time I said it… wow)**

**XxXxX**

I remained silent for the entire time the story unfolded, not daring to interrupt Kenny in his mission to enlighten me. It was as if he provided me the last few critical pieces of the jigsaw puzzle I had to solve. When I first entered his house fuming all over Kyle, the way he acted that day made absolutely no sense to me. When I put all the pieces together, however, I realized that they actually are meant to reveal something bigger. All the evidence pointed to one direction, a one big picture.

_Damn_, I thought. _How could I not see this?_

Ok. I now had all the pieces I needed. It's time I finally put this together.

"Ok, Kenny, now I want to make sure that I heard everything right. Help me sort out the whole thing, will ya?"

"With pleasure."

"First, originally, Kyle isn't even supposed to be here in New York, because the research project already started last week. But somehow he managed to remain here until next Monday. And it was because…?"

"He wanted to spend some time with you for the anniversary."

Tick, a perfect match for the first piece.

"And, judging from what you said, the people who run the research gave him extra work to do, well, to compensate for his early absence, right?"

"And he worked his ass off for that, right."

Tick, another match.

"And you said he had a second purpose for joining the project?"

"He needed the money to fund a trip to Japan. With you, of course. He was saving up money for quite some time, I guess."

Tick. Maybe this was becoming too easy.

"And, uh, he'd been trying to finish his work before my arrival, but the schedule was disturbed when you paid him a visit yesterday?"

"If you call saving his life a _disturbance,"_ Kenny frowned. "Well, yes_."_

Tick. Only the final one remained.

"Then, the reason why he was all over his work earlier today is…"

"I would say he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible so that he can keep the remaining days only to yourself."

Tick. The puzzle was now finished. But I was too afraid to look at what the puzzle had to offer. Although the answer couldn't be more obvious, I still couldn't admit it. Or didn't want to. I've known that there should be a reason for Kyle's odd behavior that night, but I just assumed it to be his undying enthusiasm for work. Apparently, however, I couldn't be more wrong. The only thing, or yet better, the only person that he was caring about this whole time was…

"Me." I finally mustered my courage to barely voice the word. "It was all about me."

"Of course it was about you, Stan Marsh." Kenny stated matter-of-factly. "He's the last person who would ever think of ditching you for a stupid research. You, of all people, should know that."

Kenny's words flew across the space between us and stabbed me in the heart. He was right. I was his fucking husband, and I was the one who's been with Kyle all along. I should have known that he'd never betray me for anything. _Anything_. Although our bodies were torn between the Atlantic for the past three weeks, I never once doubted that he'd be there for me when I came back home. It was not just about being married. It was about trust. Between us. But what did I do to him today? I pushed aside the trust and jumped to a conclusion that I made up by myself. It was not Kyle who betrayed me. It was _me_ that betrayed his trust.

_Because I don't think I love you, either._

Oh my fucking god. What the fuck did I have to say that for?

…

Now I was beginning to feel the familiar sensation of the inside of my stomach churning violently. I had too many glasses of Jack for only a bag of Cheesy Poofs for sure, but everyone knew that it was not the alcohol that upset my inside. I've had a weak stomach practically since I was born, and its contents refused to sit well when I was feeling nervous. I still remember the embarrassment of having a big time when Kyle confessed his feelings for me in the tenth grade. It took me a lot of practice to be able to kiss him without having to worry about barfing. Now, the familiar feeling of internal discomfort that I felt when kissing Kyle for the first time returned. The only difference was that it was sheer regret that was causing it, instead of sweet expectations.

_I don't wanna stain a perfectly good carpet…_

"Dude, I need to use your bathroom." I barely managed to speak these words before covering my mouth with both hands and getting up from my seat.

"Huh?" Kenny looked puzzled a bit, but then saw what was going on. "Oh, right behind you."

I was already bolting towards it before he finished the line. The bathroom door was half-open, and I ran towards the toilet as I felt my stomach was already reaching its limit in holding it back. Not bothering to turn the light on, I grabbed each side of the toilet and emptied the stomach of its half-digested content: a disgusting mixture of Jack Daniels and Cheesy Poofs.

Kenny made his way right behind me, turned the light on, and began to pat on my back to help me throwing up.

"Easy, dude, easy."

As much as I appreciated his helping hands, I couldn't help but realize how pathetic it made me look. A jackass who dumped his loved one, came to a friend to be drunk and whine about it, and was now vomiting all over the toilet. How pity. Whoever remembered me as the self-assured, popular top athlete of South Park High would never believe that he was now reduced to this worthless piece of shit.

"You know what, Kenny?" the violent movement inside me finally began to die down a little bit. "I think you're absolutely right about me. I'm the biggest douche in the universe. Period." After finishing that, I had to spit out another mouthful of sticky, greenish bile.

"No, you're not. You know, a douche who knows he's a douche is not really a douche. As long as you admit that you're wrong, you can always try to correct or make up for it.

I had to laugh a little bit at his ingenious definition of a douche. But you know what? He was right again. Now that I realized how terrible I've been to Kyle all along, there was no time to be fudging about it.

_You can always try to correct or make up for it._

Kenny's last sentence reverberated inside my head. Yes. I had to make amends. I had to go back to Kyle to tell him I was sorry and at least try to make up for what I've done to him.

"Dude, I gotta go back to Kyle." I said, wiping my mouth and the rim of the toilet with toilet paper.

"Sure thing. But, uh," Kenny then furrowed his brows. "Didn't you say something about your car?"

_Oh…_

_Shit…_

I completely forgot about the state that my Cruze was in. Last time I saw it, it was standing in front of Kenny's garage without any gas left in the tank. I highly doubted anything would have changed when I was inside.

"Damn, I forgot. Can I use your car?" I stood up and turned around to see Kenny.

"I would love to, but Butters has it now." He scratched the back of his head. "It's almost eleven, so he'd be around anytime soon. I'll call you a cap if he doesn't…"

Ding dong. The doorbell rang.

"Speak of the devil." Kenny grinned and proceeded to greet the other occupant of this house. I followed him out of the bathroom and watched him unlock the door, revealing a certain blonde that I have known since kindergarten.

"Jeez, Kenny, there's a car right in front of our garage. Is anyone !" It was right then that Butters saw me standing behind Kenny. "Hey, Stan! Didn't know you were here!"

"Hey, Butters." I tried to greet him as nicely as I could, but I couldn't spend much time saying hi to an old friend. I had a more pressing matter to deal with. "Um, do you mind me borrowing your car tonight?"

"Uh, sure, but are you…"

"Mommy!"

Butter's remark was cut off when Nick ran towards him.

**XxXxX**

"There, Stan. That's your house right there, am I right?" Butters pointed to my house while sitting behind the wheel.

"Yes, Butters. Thank you."

I unfastened my seatbelt getting ready to get out of the car. It was Butters that drove me back home that night, as he was opposed to the idea of either me or Kenny driving ("You guys been drinking? Jeez, drunken driving is too dangerous!") and Kenny accompanying the ride ("And leave Nick all by himself? No, it will not happen, mister. You'll look after him, and I'll drive."). Thanks to Kenny who briefed him about what happened, Butters didn't bother to ask me any difficult question during the most of the ride. This gave me some time to think about what to do in silent contemplation. I had to report, however, that I came up with nothing after a good twenty minutes of driving. How could I even begin to compensate for his hurt feelings? There was not a single word that could even remotely describe how sorry I was. Maybe I should even kneel before him and beg for his forgiveness, going the medieval style.

The vehicle was finally put to a stop in front of my house.

"Well, Stan, it was surely nice meeting you." Butters said, facing me opening the car door. "You take good care of yourself and Kyle and come visit us anytime, Okay?"

"Okay, Butters. Again, thank you very much. I will definitely make up for this one." I exited the car.

"Oh, don't mention it. We'll fill up your car and drive it to here next morning. Just give us a call when you wake up."

"I will. Thanks." I shut the passenger door closed and gave a nod to the driver before watching the car rolling on disappearing from the sight.

Now was the time I faced my own problem all by myself. I slowly walked towards the front door and took a deep breath before turning the doorknob.

It was open. Just the way I left it three hours ago.

Pulling the door open, I discovered the travel bag I'd placed on the side of the hallway earlier that day. Just the way I left it three hours ago.

The living room was brightly lit, and I could see the glowing lights of the screensaver on the PC monitor through the half-open bedroom door. Just the way I left it three hours ago.

At the first glance, this place hadn't changed a from three hours prior. The only lacking from the picture was…

Kyle, who was supposed to be sitting in front of the PC.

"Kyle?" I called the name of the missing redhead as I stepped inside.

…No answer.

"Kyle, you home?" I raised my voice as I called him the second time.

…Still nothing.

Now I was officially getting worried. What if he was no longer here? What if he ran out of the house as soon as I left him?

I decided to check every room in the place, starting with the bedroom. I peeked at the inside but found no Kyle. Conspicuously lacking was one of the pillows on the bed, but there was no clue indicating his presence in the room. I proceeded to check the bathroom and the kitchen as well, only to realize that he was nowhere to be found.

I grew desperate as my quest to find Kyle turned out to be futile. One of the worst scenarios I thought of was coming true—maybe he ran away never to face me forever. Maybe he was so fed up with his terrible husband that he didn't want to see him ever again. Even if that was the case, however, do I really have anything to say in defense? Do I have what it takes to get him back? Do I even deserve to be his significant other?

The answer was probably no. I knew what I did, and there was no denying it. Man, why do I always manage to fuck everything up when it's most important? We were just one day short of reaching the first anniversary of our wedding, but it seems that our marriage already hit a dead end. All because of me, of course. All because I failed to live up to his trust. All because I failed to be a considerate, understanding spouse and instead became this selfish jerk who told his loved one that he didn't love him anymore.

It would be no strange if Kyle took refuge in the Broflovski residence and called me, like tomorrow, to say he wanted a divorce. I should probably beg for his forgiveness and promise that such thing would never happen again, but then again I perfectly knew that I had absolutely no excuse to hold him back in that case. It'd be really unfair if I had to lose Kyle just because of this one big ass mistake that I made today, but love sometimes means that I have to let go, right? As much as I loved him, and God only knows how much, I didn't want to hold him back to me against his own will. I'd do everything if it could make him happy, even if that means I had to…

_Squeak._

All the thoughts racing through my mind were interrupted by a sudden squeaking sound from somewhere. It sounded like an old wooden floor was stepped upon. I looked around to identify the source of the sound, but to no avail.

_Squeak_.

Then it came again, and I was finally able to see where it was coming from—up above. Last time the inspectors came, there was no sign of termite infestation in this house. Then I remembered that the house came with an attic that no one ever really used.

Was it that Kyle was up in the attic?

I hurried myself as I made my way to the storage room where the ladder leading up to the attic was located. I carefully climbed the precarious ladder and pushed the wooden panel open to reveal the dusty space engulfed by darkness.

"Kyle?" glancing around, I called his name expecting to hear his answer.

…It didn't come, though.

While there was a stream of moonlight shining through the only window on the ceiling, the place was still too dark to see which was which. The only way to check out if Kyle was indeed there was to turn the light on.

Sighing, I fully got up on the attic and fumbled around to find the light switch hanging around here somewhere. The wooden floor made that exact squeaky noise whenever I moved. Damn, the floor screamed even when I was not moving at all.

_Gotcha_.

Having finally found the switch after a good thirty seconds, I toggled it and watched as the yellow light hanging in the middle of the place came slowly back to life. To my distress, however, the light soon flickered and began to die down after only a few seconds. No one ever used the attic even since we moved in last year, and I didn't bother to replace the old light bulb in the place. As the light died down, I made my last attempt to locate Kyle before the room went completely dark again.

It was right before the light went dead again that my eyes caught the glimpse of the curly hair that was ablaze with fiery red.

I knew that a sense of relief might not be the most appropriate emotion to feel right now considering the state that I put him in, but that was the exact thing that I felt. Thank God, he didn't run away from me. I praised the name of Jesus a hundred times for giving me a chance to redeem myself and make amends to my misdeeds.

Trying to minimize all the noise that the wooden floor was making, I slowly approached the place where Kyle was sitting. The moonlight provided the minimum level of luminosity that allowed me to examine him. He was curled up in the corner of the room beside an old mattress with his knees bent up and his arms forming a circle around them. Between his head and his knees was the missing pillow from the bedroom that he was now burying his face against. I could hear the sound of his steady breathing when I tried hard enough. From the looks of it, he was asleep. Kneeling down in front of him, I found out that the pillow was the missing one from the bedroom downstairs. The one I used. Kyle liked to sniff at the pillow from time to time saying that it smelled of me. I couldn't possibly imagine how my bodily odor could smell good to anyone.

Anyway, the pillow was now blocking me from gaining access to his face. It had to go if I were to see and touch his face. I debated as to whether disturbing Kyle in his sleep after everything I've made him go through that day was a wise decision, but there was no way I could let the situation go on unhandled like this anymore. Determined to remove the pillow, I slowly grabbed each sides of the pillow. Doing so, however, I discovered that the fabric felt unusually cold and moist.

The pillow was soaking wet.

Damn…

Poor Kyle must have cried himself to sleep.

The realization stung me real hard. Kyle always has been this confident, self-assured kid who rarely showed his weak side to anybody else. Of course he wasn't the emotionless bastard like Craig used to be in school days, but only a handful people actually got to see that he, too, was capable of crying. I myself have seen him cry only three times, the last one being three weeks ago when this debate on adoption took place.

It was especially painful to realize that I was the source of his grief and sorrow. Now I lost all my courage to remove the pillow from his grasp. Barely holding me back from bursting into tears myself, I let go of the fabric and instead placed my hands softly his shoulders.

"…Kyle?" I called him as I gently shook him in an attempt to wake him up.

Then I felt him stirring. Seconds later, he raised his head from the white, wet pillow to look up front and face me directly. I felt another round of pain raging through inside me as I looked into his eyes. They were in the exact state that Kenny had described earlier that day: puffy, bloodshot, and completely devoid of the usual bright quality. He looked absolutely terrible.

"Hey, sleepy. You okay?" Fighting back my own tears, I forced a smile to greet him as cheerfully as possible.

He, then, seemed to finally acknowledge my presence in front of him. His eye widened, presumably with surprise, and his mouth opened a bit as if he was trying to form an appropriate word to respond to my sudden comeback.

To my sheer dismay, however, the gaze did not last long. After a few seconds of silence, I could see his eyes welling up in tears, and he quickly buried his face onto the pillow yet again without saying a word.

"Oh, no, Kyle, please. Look at me." It was truly agonizing to behold Kyle in such a state. I felt my vision become blurred due to the water welling up and had to sniff a couple of times.

No longer able to contain myself, I moved closer to Kyle and pulled him to a tight hug and rested my head on the other side of the pillow.

"I'm sorry, dude. I'm so, so, sorry. I was, I was just desperate to spend some time with you alone and," I looked for an appropriate word. "I don't know what got inside me when I said I didn't love you. I didn't mean it. I love you. You know I do. " I began to sob and pulled him tighter. "So, please, Kyle. Please forgive me for my stupidity."

After finishing that line, I silently waited for his answer. That was actually all I wanted to say: that I was sorry and I wanted his forgiveness. I didn't dare expected anything more. Once given the opportunity, I was ready to work day and night to make rebuild our relationship and make him happy again. I didn't care about anything else. I just wanted him to give me the chance.

His answer, however, made the world collapse around me.

"No."

The negative made my heart drop to the bottom of my feet. My train of thought was violently cut off as something that I thought impossible happened. What did he just say? Did he just say no?

_He doesn't accept my apology._

_What could it possibly mean?_

_It means that he doesn't want me around him anymore._

I immediately broke the hug I was giving him and stepped backwards in fear. That was it. That was the end of it all. Our relationship's now a history. My dreams of our marriage quickly evaporated. Kyle was going to leave me, and I will be all alone regretting about the past every day and night until I die. That was the conclusion of my life. I will always be remembered as Stanley Randall Marsh who made the biggest blunder in human history and lost the only one who he ever cared about and died alone.

A part of me demanded that I do not let go of him. It said that I was not capable of living a life without Kyle beside me. That was not a lie by any means. Kyle had become a necessary condition for my existence. Without him, my life could mean nothing.

The other side of me, however, asked me to let go of him. I didn't deserve him in the first place. The only thing I wanted in my life was to make him happy. What if, however, I was holding Kyle back from reaching his dream? What is being with me no longer made him happy? Would it not be too egotistic to drag him down? What right did I have to claim Kyle all to myself, when he clearly did not wish to remain by my side?

Gradually, the latter side of me emerged victorious in the battle inside my mind. As much as it pained me, I should be ready to play in Kyle's way. If he doesn't want me to be around, then I had absolutely no intention to be nagging him through the rest of the night.

"…Okay." I made my best effort not to cry out loud. "If that's what you want, I guess I won't be bugging you anymore." Then I got up from the kneeling position. "I'll be right downstairs in case you ever need me. Have a good night, Kyle. Sorry."

I couldn't possibly be there in front of Kyle anymore. I desperately needed a place where I could cry as much as I wanted. In the middle of my attempt to stand up and leave him alone, however, a certain force grabbed my left hand and pulled in downward. The unexpected incident threw me off-balance, and I soon landed on the floor with my knees making contacts with the wooden surface with a loud thump.

It was Kyle, grabbing my hand like his whole life depended on it.

**XxXxX**

**A/N: And that's how the penultimate (I'm pretty sure this time) chapter ends. I'm going into a Winter Special Session starting next Monday to get some credits necessary for graduating next Spring, so it might take some time to finalize the concluding part before uploading it. I'll try my best to do that before Christmas.**

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Every comment and review is greatly appreciated. Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, and enjoy your holidays! I live in a country where Christmas doesn't mean that much, but I hope to join the celebration when I go to study in America in the near future.**

**Many thanks,**

**-Jack Colquitt.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: As always, my thanks go to my wonderful reviewers lily's mom09, currysawcc, kenny and kyle, and ILoveStanMarsh. You people are the best, and I will never forget all the support I've got for the very first fiction that I've ever written.**

**This story's gone on long enough, and I'm pleased to announce that this, indeed, is the final chapter. It's funny because I originally planned it to be a simple two-shot story. Well, anyway, enjoy the last installment of the Anniversary Crisis, which also happens to be the longest chapter as well. The quantity does not equal the quality, though, and I'm not fully satisfied with how it turned out. I just hope you're not disappointed too much after reading this.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or any character present in this story. They belong to their rightful owners, and I do not intend to use them for any kind of profit.**

**Rating: now changed to M for a strong adult theme.**

**XxXxX**

"Kyle?" Bemused, the only thing I could do was stare blankly at the figure who forced me to crash land when I was complying with his unspoken but apparent request to leave him alone.

"…Kyle?" I ask him softly, not understanding his intent on doing this.

…But Kyle went silent again. I was left there completely dumbfounded, feeling that my knees were sore from the violent contact they just made with the floor. I stay that way for quite some time without speaking a single word or moving a single digit, feeling anxious about the eerie quietness that now surrounded us. All I could hear was the sound of out steady breathing. This was one of these awkward moments where you have to control when to blink and when to breathe in and out the air manually.

After twenty-some seconds that felt like twenty-some minutes, however, I decided that it would be pointless to wait for his answer that was apparently not coming. I wasn't sure about how much longer I can stand being with him like that without breaking tears. Like I said, I needed a place to cry in. Instead of pressing further on what he wanted, I sighed and tried to get up from the kneeling position again to make myself scarce. Except…

He wouldn't let go of my hands. Actually, I felt the force grabbing my hand grow tenfold as I tried to move away from him. Then came a muffled voice from behind the pillow.

"I have to tell you something." He said, his face still invisible from my side.

_Yes._ I thought. _This is it._

This is the part he says he wants me out of his house. This is the part he says our relationship's over.

_Bye, Stan. _The imaginary Kyle inside my head told me. _The joyful days of love are now all gone. I appreciate you coming back to say sorry, but you really shouldn't have bothered to. The fate of our marriage has been sealed the very instant you said you didn't love me. And I couldn't care less. You know why? _He continued. _Because I don't think I love you, either._

_I don't think I love you either. _The last sentence refused to get out of my mind. The exact thing that I said earlier to him. Karma's a bitch.

Ironically, I realized that my head became much clearer at the thought. I became like a prisoner sentenced to death who was waiting with a rope hung around his neck. Everything was so certain now. No hope of parole. No hope of an executive hold from the governor. No hope of living. Ther was no uncertainty to cloud my judgment. The person that I cared about the most was now going to say that he didn't want me around. I knew he was going to say that. It was a mathematical truth.

"Yes, Kyle," I said in a stuttering voice. "Shoot it. Whatever you say, I deserve it."

_Any last will?_ The imaginary executioner asks before he pulls the lever beside him. In fact, I think I do have one.

"I'm so sorry, Kyle." With that, I dropped my gaze and closed my eyes. A tear dropped and got splatter on the floor. "You don't have to accept my apology. I just want you to know that I'm terribly sorry."

Now there was nothing I could do but to wait for what Kyle had in his mind. I raised my head so that I faced the executioner hiding behind the pillow.

When I opened the tear-stung eyes, however, I recognized the familiar pair of eyes staring at me. I blinked a few times before registering that Kyle finally emerged from behind the white fabric. And his lips started moving, uttering something I didn't expect coming at all.

"Like I said, no. I can't accept your apology because there is nothing you should be sorry for."Kyle said. "It's me who should be sorry."

Before I could respond, the pillow suddenly flung to the corner of the attic. Without giving me time to realize what was happening, let alone react to it, Kyle crashed to me with full force and knocked me over. Landing on my chest face-to-face, he then wrapped his arms tightly around my neck and buried his face in my chest.

"You didn't do anything wrong. It is I who messed up everything. It's all my fault. I'm so sorry." His sentence was interrupted by his constant sobbing. "I was so concerned about finishing the work that I didn't realize how you felt about me." I could feel my shirt getting wet with his tears. "I was afraid that I lost you. I was afraid that you left me forever. I'm just glad you came back. I don't know how I could have done if you didn't." He continued on without stopping. "Maybe I don't deserve you. I'm the worst. No wonder nobody ever likes me."

_Holy…Crap…_

I was at a complete loss of what to say. This whole time, he has been blaming himself for all the things that happened even though there was absolutely nothing that he could have done better. This whole time, he has been afraid that I would leave him forever. While I was wasting my time emptying a few glasses of Whiskey bitching about life and relationships, he was thinking all about me while wetting the pillow. I guess I was wrong again. He wasn't mad at me. He wasn't fuming about my self-centeredness. And he was certainly not thinking of ending the relationship. Instead, he was just afraid of me leaving him.

_How could I suspect a person like him?_

"Oh, no, nonononono, Kyle." I wrapped my arms around his waist to pull him closer. "See? You're the most kind, most considerate, and most affectionate person I've ever known. You're the kind of guy that anybody would want. You're the kind of guy that _I_ would always want. It's not your fault. The fault is all mine. So stop blaming yourself, Kyle, especially when you have the biggest douche in the universe right in front of you."

"Don't call yourself that, Stan." Kyle raised his head and looked up at me. Oh, those beautiful eyes. God only knows how much I loved them. "I'm not in love with a douche." With that, he unexpectedly kissed me. Without a single second of hesitation, I returned the kiss with full enthusiasm.

_Maybe, _I thought. _Maybe everything is going back in place. Maybe the whole thing is finally over._

While I was feeling the warmth of his lips heating me whole body, though, Kyle suddenly broke the kiss. "So," Kyle's gaze met mine.

"So?" I inquired, clueless as to what he had to say.

"Do you accept my apology?" He looked sincere when asking the question.

_What? Apology? Really?_

"Kyle, there's no apology to accept in the first place, you've done nothing wrong. The whole thing is clearly my fault, so…"

"Yes or no?" Kyle cut me off insisting that I give him my answer the instant. As his husband, I was fully aware that he was capable of getting extremely stubborn when the issue at hand was something he cared about. I was equally aware that nobody could dare expect to win a debate with Kyle when he was in that kind of state. It seems that I have no other option than to give him what he wanted.

"The answer is a definite yes." I spoke softly. "I mean, how can I refuse a request from the world's most gorgeous person that I love?"

Upon hearing this, he noticeably brightened up in mood as if the heavy burden on his shoulders that was holding him down has finally been lifted.

"Stan, thank you. I really, really, do." He tried to kiss me again, but I stopped him by placing an index finger on his lips. Oh no, we still got business to settle.

"Nah-ah. Not yet. Didn't you forget anything important?" I formed an expectant look.

"What?" Now it was Kyle's turn to be puzzled. He may not remember it, but it hurt me enormously when he first said 'no' when I told him that I was sorry, even though that wasn't exactly what he meant when he said it.

"What about my apologies? You didn't accept mine." I wore an overly sad face and pouted. "Actually, you explicitly said no. You might not have noticed, but that really hurt me. I mean it."

"Oh, Stan," Kyle sighed. "That was not what I meant when I said no. I meant that you didn't have to apologize."

"I know you didn't mean it, Kyle. But please? I can't possibly live up with the guilt if you don't accept mine. Just make us even, will you?" I implored.

Kyle seemed to search for the most appropriate answer for my request. After remaining silent with his mouth slightly open for a few seconds, he formed a wide smile all over his face and answered.

"Yes, I accept your apology. Now we're even. You happy now?" I didn't stop him this time when he tried to kiss me once again after answering. While our lips remained connected, however, I couldn't help but get the sense of guilt that I was cheating on him. Really, Stan? Do you really think simply saying sorry would solve every problem and make you and Kyle even? You know how much pain you caused to Kyle and you now want to get away with it with a simple _I'm sorry_?' I knew that I still had a huge debt to pay and I would never be free of the sense of guilt until I do something to deal with the outstanding account.

_Maybe_, I thought. _Maybe it's time._

As soon as we part our lips to catch our breaths, I decided to go for the plan.

"Hey, Kyle, you know what?" I could only imagine what his reaction would be like.

"What?" Kyle answered panting, still yet to recover the oxygen level in his lung.

"I think it's time."

"Time for what?"

"It's time we had children, of course."

Kyle's eyes went wild in surprise. "_What_?" he shrieked. "you're not serious, are you?"

"'Course I'm serious, dude." I smirked. His response was exactly what I had anticipated. "Do I look like a guy who'd joke on that kind of subject?"

"But," He became suddenly hesitant, not understanding what caused the change in my stance about the adoption issue. "I thought you said…"

"What? We're too busy minding our own businesses?" I interjected, fully aware of what was bugging Kyle's mind. "Well, you know what? I went to Kenny's today and it seems that they have this Nick kid as their family." I continued. "And believe me, Kyle. If Kenny and Butters can raise a child, there's no one on this planet who can't."

"Oh, God, Stan," Kyle then unexpectedly started bombarding my whole face with kisses.

"S, stop, Kyle," I giggled as his kisses tickled my senses. While it was certainly a pleasure to see an exhilarated Kyle, it occurred to me that it was me who was denying all this pleasure for the whole time. Like I said, I wanted to have children as much as he did. It was just that I was not confident enough that I would make a decent father. You know, I loved my dad Randy and everything, but he wasn't exactly a model dad, was he? He always got in trouble and all of his efforts somehow ended up plunging him and his family deeper and deeper into predicament. I made a personal oath somewhere in my high school years that I would never be a father like him when I get to make my own family.

That was the reason why I was scared when Kyle first brought up the issue of adopting a child. Was I ready for it? Was there a guarantee that I would not end up being just like my dad? These were the questions that dominated the inside of my head whenever I thought of having a child. Maybe that "busy" argument was nothing more than a terrible excuse that I made up. I mean, was there any parent who was _not_ busy doing their work? We see double income families the whole time these days, don't we? Commitment, not the amount of work, was what really counted.

"Kyle, it's really not that big of a deal." I manage to utter the sentence while Kyle was still eagerly kissing every corner of my face. "I really should have known that you wanted to have one this much."

"Seriously?" He abruptly stopped the bombardment and met my glaze. "You just gave me the biggest present in my whole life, and you're saying you're sorry? Come on."

I smiled at his choice of word. "the biggest present?"

"_the_ biggest present."

Now it was my turn to return fire. I placed my lips on each and every place I could find on the face of Kyle, who was lying on my top the whole time as the conversation went on. As the thick air of guilt that had been engulfing me was gone, I found my body getting…hot.

_Oh, jeez. It's not the best time to have a hard-on. Not now_._ Please stay still._

The lower half of my body, however, disobeyed the order I've just given and made the pants feel tighter second after second. I tried my best to keep my groin from contacting Kyle's body. We were talking about some serious shit and I didn't want to seem like a sex-deprived perv whose only goal was to lie on top of anybody whenever there was a chance.

Reading from my face that something was not right, Kyle shot me an inquiring gaze. "Why, Stan? Is there something bugging you?"

…I wondered how Kyle sometimes became Sherlock Holmes and virtually read people's minds like that. Especially regarding mine.

"Uh, No-nothing. No." I internally cursed myself for stammering like that. It was just plainly pathetic: it ended up making me sound a whole lot more suspicious.

"Dude, I was always wondering who the worst liar in this universe was." Hmm, is it just me, or does Kyle's remark sound somewhat familiar. "The answer is definitely Butters, but," He pulled himself dangerously closer to me, with his nose almost touching mine. "You're certainly a close runner-up. By the slightest margin."

Now Kyle thinks that I'm the worst liar second only to Butters, too. I mean, I knew I may not be the best one, but was I that obvious?

"That's funny." I grinned. "Kenny said the exact same thing to me."

"So tell me what. What's bugging you?"

I debated as to whether to tell him the fact that I was developing a raging erection down there. But seeing the way Kyle played the interrogation game, I guess there was no way out for me. The problem, however, was how to break the news to him. What would be the best thing to tell him?

_Kyle, I wanna fuck you._

No, certainly not. That'd be too crude, too blunt. Even for my standard. Now, what if I went all formal and academic just the way Kyle likes it?

_Kyle, may I suggest engaging in a sexual intercourse?_

No, that's terrible. I should go for a very clever metaphor, instead.

_Kyle, wanna taste a sausage of mine?_

…

…

Fuck, that was the dumbest idea I've ever come up with so far in my entire life.

"Stan, are you alright?" Kyle said in a concerned voice. "You suddenly got all pale and sweaty."

Urgh, forget it. Time for improvisation.

"Well, um, don't laugh."

"Trust me, I won't."

"You… uh… you wanna do _it_?"

Ah, Fuck. Fuck you, Stanley Marsh. That was the exact line that earned me a slap in the face from Wendy in junior high when I was still going out with her ("Is that your concept of being romantic, perv?"). _You wanna do it_? Seriously? I'm very disappointed in you, Mr. Marsh. Was that the best you can come up with?

While I my brain was ranting about how terrible I was at improvising words, Kyle cocked his head to the left, and to my relief, didn't slap me in the face. Instead, he developed a wide grin all over his face as if he understood exactly what was going on.

"Uh, I guess. I mean, sure. Why not?"

Uh, what? Did he just say yes, then? Well, I must say that turned out relatively well, but I wasn't still sure if I could actually do it. Maybe he was saying yes just because he hated saying no to my face.

"But dude, tell me if you don't want to. I completely understand that you might not be in the right mood after all this, and I don't want to touch you if that makes you uncomfortable in any way. Like," I paused for a bit, thinking about the appropriateness of the next word. "Sex can always wait, dude."

Yeah. Sex can always wait. It's just that the wait tends to be long and painful. I, however, was ready to play along Kyle's mood tonight. What he says would be my law.

"Stan, now," He said in a serious lecture-tone of his. "Does it look like I would refuse such a treat? Believe me, the last thing that will make me uncomfortable is to get more intimate with you."

Wow, this was becoming harder and harder to resist. But then again, why was I resisting?

"But, um, don't you want to move to the bedroom or something?" This place's a filth, and I know you care about hygiene and stuff."

What I said was all true. The attic was certainly nothing but an old place covered in dust and filled with some unused furniture including the old mattress lying right beside us. And Kyle was the type of person who could not stand anything dirty or disorganized.

"Stan, maybe you didn't get the message the first time." To my surprise, he didn't back up. "So I'm going to be very explicit." He then moved his head right beside my right ear and whispered, each and every word in staccato: "I. Want. You. To. Fuck. Me."

And he attached the magic words at the end of his sentence: "Right. Fucking. Now."

Now that's what I call a serious turn-on.

I muster every force in my body to straighten up and pushed Kyle backward. Caught off-guard, Kyle managed to yelp in surprise before landing on the side of the old mattress. Pushing Kyle so that he was now lying properly on the center of the mattress, I positioned myself hovering right above him.

"You called for it." With that, I plunged forward to start sucking at his neck.

"Mmh," A soft moan escaped Kyle as I intensified my eagerness in my mission to make his neck all covered in purple marks. I was now trapped in a vicious cycle where every lick and every suck made my lust more and more insatiable. Or should I call it a virtuous cycle?

Running out of spaces to suck on, I began to undo the buttons on his shirt one by one to reveal his cream-white chest. Shit, it sure is difficult to undo buttons when you got a raging hard-on, and there were at least a dozen of them. One down, now on two, then three…

"Fuck this."

When I was working on the fourth one, I decided that I couldn't put up with this shit forever and tore the shirt wide open. The buttons made noises when they were detached from the fabric and flew across the place, landing on the floor everywhere. It would take a hell lot of time to get them all back later, the misfortune of these buttons had absolutely no place inside my lust-filled mind bent only on sex with Kyle.

"Aww, I liked that shirt. You'll pay for that." Kyle said as he tugged on my shirt and pulled it upward as I wiggled to get rid of my own clothing.

"…Gladly."

Before finally working on the remaining half of our clothes, my gaze stopped at the sight of his little, pink nipples exposed helplessly in a stark contrast with his otherwise perfectly white torso, save for some freckles. Now, I wouldn't be doing them justice if I didn't catch this perfect opportunity to please them, would I? Determined, I took each one of them and nibbled.

"Ah, Stan, fuck," Kyle let out a satisfied groan, wrapping his legs across my waist and tugged on my hair. It kinda hurt when he grabbed my hair with too much strength, but I wouldn't mind losing a few strings if it gave Kyle something to depend on. Moreover, I liked it when Kyle played with my hair. It was fucking hot, after all.

While not detaching my mouth from those lovely nipples, I reached for the waistline of his pants to undo the button and tugged it down along with his boxers altogether. To my pleasure, Kyle was apparently enjoying the act just as much as I did because removing the underpants revealed his own fully-developed erection which was smearing precome on my belly as it rubbed against it.

"I can see how eager you are." I teased. "And I'm yet to peel all the clothes. The real thingy didn't even start yet."

Kyle's face noticeably reddened, but he took my teasing rather well and responded. "Does that mean you're not as eager as I am?"

"You're kidding?" I quickly defended myself. "I've been waiting for this for three fucking weeks. If you don't believe me, check for yourself."

"I think I might just do that." With that, Kyle moved down his hands that were previously playing with my hair to unbuckle the belt holding my pants in place. "Help me out here."

I had absolutely no reason to disobey his command. I gladly guided his hands in undoing the belt and pulled and tossed it away as soon as it became loosened. Then I proceeded to haphazardly get rid of the remainder of my clothing. The two of us were now stark naked under the moonlight pouring through the window, with myself lying on top of him. No longer hampered by any fabric standing between us, I rubbed my erection against Kyle's, immersing myself in the intense pleasure it gave me.

"Yours, _ah_, is hot." Kyle found it to his likings, too.

"You mean it's high in temperature," I asked equally mesmerized in the sensation. "or you mean it's sexually arousing?"

"Both." Kyle wrapped his arms around my neck once again to raise his upper body and demanded. "And I want it inside me. Now."

"Yeah, but," Believe me, I had absolutely nothing against granting his request. However, there was one little problem that made me hesitate. "Do you happen to have any lube in the attic?"

"Uh, no, probably not." Kyle said in apparent disappointment. "Even if there is one, it would be next to impossible to find it in this mess." He let go of my hair and unfastened his legs from my waist, lying on bed. "Do you think we should go downstairs, then?"

I thought for once that might be the only available option here, but getting up in the middle of this act just because we didn't have any lube did not sound appealing to me for obvious reasons. First, it would be extremely awkward to abandon the process and start it all over again in the bedroom. We were all naked, after all. Second, I didn't want to fucking stop here. I got a raging hard-on, and it needed to be dealt with immediately.

_Time for another improvisation, then_.

"You know what?" I grinned. "I have a better idea."

Finishing the sentence, I plunged downward to grab the root of Kyle's manhood and started licking on top of it. Kyle's was not as big as mine for sure, but that was one of the qualities that I liked about it. So cute and dainty and all.

"Ahh, fuck, Stan, you, oh, God." Kyle was trying to say something, but it seemed his brain was not functioning properly to generate any logical sentence. As a result, he was pouring out random mixtures of curses, the names of the Hebrew Saints, and of course, my name.

After I decided that I teased him enough, I took his entire erection into my mouth. I was usually on the receiving side of a blowjob ever since we starting going out, but I absolutely didn't mind giving him one. Every time my tongue touched one of the sensitive spots on his cock, Kyle jerked backwards and a loud moan escaped his mouth. Something told me that he was not very far from reaching climax.

"Stan, ah, Stan," Kyle whimpered helplessly while grabbing my hair. "I'm real close. I'm gonna, ah, I'm gonna,"

Before he could finish what he was saying, Kyle came in my mouth. I took it all with my mouth, allowing no one single drop of the precious liquid to go to waste. Instead of swallowing as Kyle did most of the time when he blew me, however, I spat it on my right hand and covered my fingers in the white, sticky substance.

"Stan," Kyle cocked one of his brows. "What are you doing?"

"Why do you need lubes," I answered. "when the human body is capable of generating an equally effective agent?"

"Oh, Stan, it's," Kyle flushed hard. "it's too embarrassing."

"No need to be embarrassed, Kyle." I said in an assuring voice. "It came from your body, and it is only going back in. You ready?"

Instead of saying anything, Kyle slowly nodded. Taking that as a yes, I inserted one of the sticky fingers inside him. Shit, it was the first time in three weeks that I did that, and it felt just incredible.

"You're tight." I grinned. "In fact, you're tighter than I ever remember you be. What's the matter?"

"Well, what did you expect?" Kyle retorted. "I had no one to loosen me up for the past three weeks. It has been all empty, waiting day to day for you to fill it up."

"Shit, Kyle. That was the sexist thing you've ever said so far."

I whirled my finger around inside Kyle for the last time before I withdrew it and replaced it with a pair of fingers instead. As I started scissoring, Kyle's moan became louder and more frequent. I must have accidentally rubbed the magic spot when I was going deeper, because Kyle's body almost jumped at the contact and he threw every cursing word at me at the same time.

"Ah, fuck, shit, For Abraham's sake, fuck."

"You like it?" I asked jockingly. "Want me to do it again?"

Kyle suddenly pulled me with full force and matched my lips with his. As we engaged in the kiss, I still did not stop moving my fingers around, rubbing the spot a couple of times afterwards. Each time I did that, I could feel the vibrating sound of his moan through our connected mouths.

It was Kyle who pulled out of the kiss first, gasping for air. The kiss left me breathless as well, and we continued panting in that posture for a minute. I couldn't hold it anymore. I wanted to be inside him this instant.

"Kye, you ready?" I liked to call him that way, especially when we were getting intimate at night. "If you wanna be loosened up more, just tell me so."

"Just, fucking, do it already." Kyle demanded.

I scoffed. "With pleasure."

I now used the remainder of Kyle's cum on my hand to fully lubricate my cock. In doing so, I took extra care not to touch my sensitive spot there. If I did, I would end up cumming even before I entered Kyle.

With my raging erection covered in a satisfying amount of the white substance, I slowly began to push it inside Kyle.

"Tell me to stop when it hurts." That was a rather procedural remark. As soon as I started doing it, I was never able to stop it no matter how much I tried—or I didn't actually try.

Kyle just nodded in silence and remained quiet until I made it halfway through the tight ring. Then he became much louder when the other half of me made its way inside him.

"Ahh, fuck, Kyle."

The pulsating sensation of my dick fully surrounded by the inside of Kyle was more than enough to overwhelm me. After savoring the feeling for a few seconds, I started gently moving back and forth, generating the friction that both of us desperately needed. Kyle grasped each side of my shoulder as he panted and moaned. I could feel his nails digging into the skin of my back, but I could hardly care about it now.

"Fuck, Stan, harder. Go harder. Fuck me."

Being compliant, I enthusiastically thrust in harder and deeper, making sure that I touched the spot every once in a while. Every rub against his prostate was discernible by the way he gasped and shuddered in utmost joy. Feeling that I was already close to the climax, I increased the pace of my thrust furthermore as I began rubbing his shaft up and down to help him out.

"Kye, say my name, Kye."

"Stan, I love you. I fucking love you, Stan."

Watching helpless Kyle calling my name was just enough to send me over the edge. During the last few thrusts before I released inside Kyle, I connected our lips once again as I sent out a loud moan into his mouth. Kyle reached his climax at the same time, covering his chest in the sticky mess.

Letting out one final groan, I collapsed on top of his chest. The two of us remained there hyperventilating as the blissful sensation of afterglow encompassed us.

As our breaths began to resume their normal pace, I placed another gentle kiss on his forehead. "Did you like it?"

Kyle smiled, looking at me with his beautiful emerald eyes that never failed to hypnotize me. "You bet. It was just amazing."

"Good to hear that." I returned the smile. "I made a promise with myself that I'd make every night before you leave for Texas unforgettable."

"Every night?" Kyle asked.

"_Every_ night." I gave a strong emphasis on that adjective.

Kyle chuckled. "Just make sure you don't completely pulverize my pelvis. I would need it when I go to the airport on Monday morning."

"Oh," I smirked. "If I do smash your pelvis into dust, can you call in sick and stay here longer?"

"Stan!" Kyle gave me a forceful yet playful push. "You're gonna need it as well if you plan on getting me to Bennigan's tomorrow."

Ah, yeah. I completely forgot. Now that he brought up the subject of tomorrow's plans, Bennigan's was not the only thing that was on the list.

"And the waterpark, too." I added.

Kyle frowned a little. "Uh, not the waterpark."

"Why not?" I inquired. "They have a no-peeing-in-the-pool rule. Rumor has it that they even have a pee detector in operation. An alarm sounds off whenever the level of ammonia increases and identifies the source of the its release."

"That sounds awesome, Stan. But it's not exactly about peeing." Kyle then pointed to his neck. "Don't say for forgot about these."

"Oh," Then I realized what the real problem was. "I see."

His neck was covered in a dozen of hickeys that I just gave him. A regular t-shirt would not be enough to fully conceal them, and wearing a turtleneck would look ridiculous in a waterpark.

"Sorry, dude. I didn't really think about the waterpark while I was giving them to you." I apologized.

Hmm, now there was a problem with my grand scheme. Where should I go with Kyle tomorrow, then?

"No, Stan. I'm fine. Actually, I wanted to visit another place with you tomorrow."

_Oh, Kyle has another place in mind?_

"What place?" I asked.

"Um, you said we can have a child, didn't you?"

Oh, yes. I did. He called it _the_ biggest present.

"Yes, I did."

"In fact, there is a baby at the Guardian Angel shelter that I always wanted to adopt."

"…Oh."

Well, that certainly wasn't expected. He has been talking about adoption ever since we came here to New York, but did he already have a candidate in mind? He's not suggesting that we go adopt a child, like tomorrow, is he? Although I stood with Kyle that it was time we expanded our family, doing it tomorrow would going too fast. There's Kyle's research project, the planned trip to Japan, and most importantly, I didn't even see this kid myself.

"Uh, Kyle?" I try my best not to offend him. "You're not saying that we go adopt this kid tomorrow, right?"

"Of course not." Kyle stated matter-of-factly. "I just wanted you to meet him in person. Adoption needs a lot of paperwork as well as a process to determine if we are fit to take care of the child. You've got to see him, though. He's so adorable, you know? He looks exactly the same with you."

"Exactly the same with me?"

"Uh, you in your childhood, to be more exact. He's only six months old, but he's got the exact black hair and blue eyes that you have."

"Well, that certainly sounds interesting." I was really getting curious. "I want to meet him in person. I don't exactly remember how I looked when I was six months old, though." Then something hit me as odd. "But wait, isn't a six-year-old baby a bit too young to be raised in a Children's shelter?"

"Yeah, it's too young." Kyle looked saddened as he explained. "That poor thing was found abandoned in front of the entrance to the shelter. Though the institute has all the necessary equipments for taking care of such a young baby, they say they'd really prefer if somebody else took him home and looked after him. What he needs is not the state-of-the-art machinery but parental love and human interactions. Butters invited me to the institute to introduce the baby to me, and," Kyle paused for a bit, "uh, they actually allowed me to give him his name."

"His name?" I inquired. "So, you got to give this baby his name?"

"Yeah…" Kyle fidgeted with his hands. "He didn't really have a name because he was an abandoned child and stuff. When Mrs. Helen offered me a chance, I just couldn't resist it."

"So," Wow, this was getting deeper and deeper than I thought. "What is his name?"

"Um, William…" Kyle said nervously.

"William…" I repeated. "That a good name."

"William Marsh." Kyle cautiously added.

"What?" I raised my voice in surprise. "You gave him my last name?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Stan." Kyle was being restless with his fingers. "I just, I just couldn't resist it. It's just temporary, so anyone who adopts him gets to decide his permanent name. Please don't say you're mad!"

"Mad?" I scoffed. "Why would I be mad?"

"Um, because I gave him your last name without asking you first?"

"Oh, come on, Kyle. I may be a jerk, but not that big of a jerk." I smiled. "There's one thing that bugs me, though."

"What? What bugs you?" Kyle seemed genuinely puzzled.

"Why not Broflovski?"

"Huh?" He didn't understand my question, so I decided to clarify.

"Why William Marsh, and not William Broflovski? I mean, you don't have to feel compelled to use my last name. You can always use yours."

"Uh, yeah, but…" Kyle's look soon changed into a playful one. "What if a certain fat boy from the class rips on him every day and night for having a Jewish name?"

I giggled at his analogy to Cartman. Man, I haven't seen him in years. Not that I hated it, though.

"Then he can tell the fatass to shut up and go fuck himself." I jokingly answered.

We laughed in unison. The verbal feud between the duos was a constant feature of our schooldays.

"I would rather not risk it, though." Kyle mounted a brief kiss on my lips. "By the way, I decided to go by your name when we get to adopt this child."

"Really?" That was certainly good news to me. I'm not trying to be selfish or anything, but Kyle having my last name was part of my lifetime dream.

"Kyle Marsh. Kyle Marsh. It sounds great." I said the name repeatedly. To me, it sounded absolutely gorgeous. I first asked him about what he'd do about his last name three days before our wedding, and he said he was going to keep his a little while because his parents, especially Sheila, didn't like the idea of him abandoning his Jewish heritage. While I didn't make it obvious, I couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed. I once offered to change my name to Broflovski, but was met with an out-of-hand dismissal by Kyle ("No way, Stan. I'm not going to let you suffer from this stupid name. Do you really want to have a name that no one can spell correctly?")

"But," Then I remembered about Sheila. "aren't your parents going to be pissed? I mean, you mom really cares about you carrying on your heritage."

"They would hardly care now." Kyle scoffed. "And even if they did, they have no authority to dictate which name I can have and which not. I'm not theirs anymore." Then he cupped his hand on each side of my cheek and kissed me, saying: "I'm yours now, Stanley."

Fuck, that was hot. That was absolutely sexy.

"Shit," I cursed. "That would definitely make me hard again."

"Then pull it out before it gets hard." Kyle chuckled. "Now that you mentioned it, why haven't you pulled it out already? It's been like, ten minutes since you came."

"And why do you suggest I should pull it out?" I asked.

"Duh? I dunno. Because we're done with doing _it_?" Kyle said mockingly.

"And," I said with an evil grin plastered all over my face. "Who says we're done with doing _it_?"

"Huh?" Kyle was stunned. "You don't mean…"

"Of course I mean it. Time for Round Two, Kye."

I quickly pulled Kyle upwards and lay on the same spot that he previously was occupying. Then I turned him around and pulled him on my side so that he was sitting on my stomach in a "riding" position. We haven't tried this one for a very long time, so this would surely refresh our memory.

"S, Stan, you really sure you want to do this?" Kyle flushed hard. Well, maybe he flushed _too_ hard because his entire body was now glowing in red.

"Why, Kyle?" I decided to tease him a little. "If I remember correctly, you liked it much better than me."

Then the impossible happened: Kyle grew redder than he originally was. I thought for once that I actually saw steam coming out of his ears.

_Oh my God_, I thought. _He looks so incredibly cute when he's all shy_.

I couldn't take it anymore. Feeling another round of lust engulfing me, I grabbed his waistline and gave him a little lift. His cute, little ass was hovering right over my cock.

"Whenever you're ready, Kye."

Kyle read the eagerness in my eyes, and began to descend. It didn't take too long before I felt the familiar sensation of Kyle's inside squeezing on me.

"Shit," I murmured. "it still feels so good when doing it a second time."

Now my cock was fully inside Kyle. Before I began moving my ass, I grabbed Kyle's cock to see that it was growing firm like just before.

"You're hard, too." I said.

"Mmm," Kyle responded with a pleasured moan.

That gave me the green light. Placing my hands on each side of his waist, I slowly begin thrusting upwards. The movement caused the cum that I had spilled inside him ten minutes earlier drip downward and work as a natural lubricant. To my pleasure, Kyle began to match my thrust by moving his bottom accordingly. Soon the attic was full of the slapping sounds that our bodies made.

"Uh, fuck, you like it, Kye?" I managed to ask Kyle in the middle of the business.

"Uh, yes, shit, yes, I like it." He stammered.

Smiling, I grabbed one of his hands and guided it to his cock. Soon after, the two hands joined in a mission of jerking him off.

_Well this feels good than I remember. _I thought. _We should definitely do this more often_.

It was Kyle that came first, unloading most of his loads on my chest. Some of it though managed to reach my face. I snapped my eyes shut instinctively to prevent it from entering my eyes.

"Fuck, Stan, I'm sorry." Kyle became busy with his hands to wipe off his cum from my face.

"It's okay, Kye. Actually, I find it fucking hot beyond belief."

With a few more thrusts like that, I came inside Kyle for a second time that night. When I finished spilling, Kyle fell on top of me fully exhausted.

"Let me be like this for a second." Kyle said, panting hard.

"Be my guest." I was thoroughly exhausted as well.

The silent pause right after the second round was significantly longer than after the first one. Even after we caught up with our breaths, no one dared to speak another word for a good ten minutes. With our chests touching each other, I could feel Kyle's heart beating over his ribcage. It was just blissful to be able to be with Kyle like that. No one ever gets to see him and touch him like I do right now. Feeling his heartbeat, I thought I was the happiest person in the universe.

"Hey, Stan." Kyle finally broke the long silence.

I acknowledged him by humming a little _umm-hmm?_

"You said you went to Kenny's after you left the house," Kyle developed a somewhat worried look when asking. "What did he tell you?"

_Oh, that thing_.

"Um, well, practically everything I needed to know, I guess."

"Define _everything_." He laced his fingers on mine.

"Okay, where do I begin?" I tried to remember the contents of my conversation with Kenny earlier that day. "Well, first of all, he told me that you're supposed to be in Texas right now."

"Yeah, that thing…" he trailed off.

"Seriously, though," I asked. "Why didn't you tell me? I mean, that thing is supposed to be super important. You didn't have to stay behind just to please me."

"First of all, Stan," Kyle stated firmly. "Nothing is more important than you. And I mean nothing. I can forgo everything in my life just to see you one more time."

_Aww, that's so sweet_… without saying a word, I proceeded to kiss him one more time.

"I mean it. Really." He continued on. "And secondly, would you have let me do it if you knew about it?"

"Well," That actually made sense. "Maybe, maybe not."

Would I have allowed him to do the project had I known what it involved? The answer was probably no. Not after I knew that he would have to work till he collapsed.

"But you have to promise me," I demanded. "Don't keep me in the dark about such an important matter from now on. I'm not going around shouting _respect my authoritah_ or anything_, _but I really think I'm entitled to know the things that affect you the most."

"I promise, Stan." Kyle answered sincerely. "And what else did Kenny tell you?"

"Um, yeah," then I remembered Kenny telling about Kyle's plan for a trip to Japan. "he mentioned something about this, uh, you planning to take us to Japan?"

"…He told you that?" Kyle didn't try to conceal his disappointment. "That took away the element of surprise."

"No, no, I must say I'm impressed." I wasn't lying when I said that. "I mean, how did you make that all money?"

"Well, mostly by being thrifty. And then there is some additional income from being a TA and teaching summer session classes."

"Just by that?" Ha, Kyle shared a lot of similarities with my mom. "I admire you, dude. I was never good at managing money. I somehow end up spending it for some pointless causes."

"Well, old habits surely die hard." Kyle commented nonchalantly. "Did Kenny tell you anything else?"

"Not really. Except the pizza thing and you fainting." I added. "Are you sure you're okay, though? Don't you have to go to see a doctor?"

"I'm sure I'm okay, Stan. It just happens when I skip meals too much."

"When did you have your last meal?"

"Uh…" Kyle contemplated. "Last afternoon, I had some breads and orange juice for lunch."

"That's all? You didn't have any dinner, then?" I asked. "Here's the thing. I'm gonna take you to Bennigan's the first thing tomorrow morning after calling Kenny to get my car here."

Kyle simply nodded, and then there was another period of silence. I yawned, feeling that it was about time we went to sleep.

"Okay, Kye, you can come down here now."

"Come down to where?"

"To my side, of course." I raised the brows. "or what, you gonna sleep on top of me, then?"

"What makes you think I'm gonna go to sleep now?" Kyle giggled.

_Oh…_

_He doesn't mean…it…does he?_

"Uh, you don't mean…"

"You got all the pleasure of fucking me up until Round Two," Kyle cut me out. "Don't you think it's a bit too selfish to call it a day before I get a taste of you, at least?"

"What?" I was genuinely surprised. "Weren't you exhausted until like, just now?" Kyle had this ability to startle other people sometimes. And judging from the nuance of it, Kyle apparently wanted to top. "And by the way, you haven't topped since the day we were married. You sure about this?"

"Oh, what is it, Stanny?" Kyle's came close to me and whispered to my ear. "Do you think I'm gonna eat you alive like one of those scary zombies? You scared? Huh?"

…I didn't know whether to like it or hate it when Kyle teased me like that. I guess I like it this time, though, because my cock mysteriously grew hard again.

_Oh well, I always welcome adventures._

"Bring it on, Kye." I taunted him. "Impress me."

"I promise I will." Kyle mounted a kiss on my forehead. "Just give me thirty seconds to recover. That's all."

**XxXxX**

By the time we were finished, we were lying side to side on the damp mattress that reeked of nothing but hot sex. I could see the full moon and the bright stars shining through the window in the ceiling. To be honest, I've never thought the attic would be such a romantic place before. I somehow got the feeling that we'd come up here very often from now on.

Kyle lay just beside me using my arm as a pillow. I once thought that he was asleep by the way he breathed steadily, but I could see the glimpse of his emerald eyes still open and blinking.

"You thinking of anything?" I decided to ask.

"Not really." Came a lazy voice. "I guess I'm just enjoying the mood."

Enjoying the mood, huh? Well, I think that's the exact thing I'm doing here as well.

"Same here."

Then there was another long pause. Not one of these awkward moments, though. We didn't speak anything not because we didn't know what we had to say, but because we knew we didn't have to say anything. We were, so to say, connected in a non-verbal way. I could feel what Kyle thought without any kind of verbal communication. I knew it from the way he breathed, the way his heart beat, and the way he stared at the stars outside the window.

"Mind if I asked you a question, Stan?"

"Not at all. Shoot it."

"You're…" he hesitated. "you're not gonna leave me, right?"

I stared at Kyle as if I just saw a dead man walking. "Seriously, Kye? How could I ever leave you?" was he still holding grudges about today's incident? "It's just out of the question. I'm sorry if the whole thing today gave you the wrong impression, but I'm never leaving you. I just can't. you know that, right?"

"Yeah…" Kyle trailed off. "I know. Just checking."

Kyle then shimmied to my side and curled up, closing down the distance between our faces to a couple of inches. "I'm all sleepy."

I, too, moved to Kyle's side a little to the extent that I could feel his breathing directly. "Are you sure you wanna stay up here all night, though? We can go down to the bedroom if you want."

"I'd love to, but," He smiled shyly. "My ass is so sore that I can't even walk right now."

I chuckled. Even though I didn't end up breaking his pelvis like I joked, I was sure that I was close to accomplishing that goal. The fact of the matter is, Kyle didn't fall short of breaking mine, either.

"True that. Mine is sore, too. Guess we're destined to sleep up here covered in dust, then."

Not that I minded. It was certainly a unique experience to be up in the cozy attic with Kyle all night. In dead silence, I began to sort out the schedule tomorrow. Cancel that, the schedule today. Although there was no way to determine what time it was, I was pretty sure that it was past midnight. Kyle and I have been engaged in that crazy spree for at least a couple of hours. Or at least I felt that way.

Anyway, the first thing to do in the morning would be to call Kenny who will be driving my car here. Then there's the lunch at Bennigan's, and I guess I'll be going to the children's shelter to see this William kid. After that, umm, what did I have in mind?

Oh, yeah. The horror movie. Kyle would definitely like the new installment of the Paranormal Activity series for sure.

"Hey, Kyle. You wanna go see that Paranormal Activity tomorrow?"

… but I didn't hear any answer.

I lowered my head to peek at the face of the redhead. His eyes were closed. He was sound asleep.

I thought for a second about how cute he looked in such a defenseless state, but my exhausted brain was not capable of keeping the train of thought going any longer. I, too, felt the eyelids become heavy like solid pieces of rock.

Before closing my eyes, I planted a soft kiss on his left cheek and whispered to his ear.

"Happy anniversary, Kyle."

And then I was taken away to the blissful state of much-needed sleep. I dreamed of me and Kyle taking a picnic at Stark's Pond back in Colorado. Besides us was that William kid who looked exactly the same as my young self. I must say that it was the best dream I've had in a very long time.

FIN.

**XxXxX**

**A/N: Gosh, that was AWKWARD! It was the very first smut that I've ever written—and may I remind you, it lasted rather long—and I'm more or less determined to make it the last one. I guess smut is not really my thingy. Sorry that it didn't live up to your expectations, if you had any.**

**The story started as a simple idea of describing how much Stan and Kyle loved each other, but at the same time escaping the "I love you-I love you too" or "drunken sex at someone's party" repertoire. Sure, it was not entirely free from clichés, at least that's what I had in mind.**

**I think I learned a lot by writing this fic, and it seems fairly certain that I'll continue writing SP fanfics for a while. Writing, after all, is the only thing that keeps me sane—or insane, for that matter—amid the crazy college life. I think I'll have to keep each chapter shorter to 2-3k levels from now on: 5-6k a chapter was just too much for an inexperienced writer like me.**

**In fact, I already uploaded a prologue and the first chapter for another experimental fic that I'll be writing next. If you're interested, you can access it from my profile.**

**Thank you very much for staying with me the whole time! Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, and my best wishes for your holidays!**

**Signing off-**

**-Jack Colquitt.**


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